I’m allergic to most animals. If I pet a dog or cat, then forget and rub my eye without washing my hands, my eye swells up and gets weepy. And I have about a half-hour or so in a house with pets before the sinus headaches kick in. So when I’m around animals, I try not to encourage any contact.
You can guess how this turns out, right? Every time I’m around animals, they make a beeline for me. The shocked owners always say, “He never goes to strangers! Never!”
I was thinking of this yesterday when I was at a friend’s house, whose big old tomcat kept rubbing up against my leg, purring. “Listen, I really wish I could pet you, but I’m really attached to breathing,” I told him.
He came back, again and again. “I wonder why that happens,” my friend said.
“I imagine they sense my utter indifference,” I said. (Which isn’t really true, but it’s a good line. I grew up with dogs and cats, I even had them as a grownup. I don’t remember exactly when I started to develop allergies, but oh well.)
