My house is trying to kill J. He moved in with us a few months back, against everyone’s better judgment. For the most part things have been great. If you can overlook the wheezing and hacking and itchy eyes and frequent inhaler usage. You see, the poor man is asthmatic and seriously allergic to my arthritic cats. I love the cats dearly. But I love J more. So I’ve been making an effort to relocate them for the past year or so. First I tried everyone I know (and I know a lot of people) but no one has been willing to take either of them…citing petty things like:
“dude, Jasmine is a psychopath” and
“didn’t you just tell me she peed all over your couch and you had to throw it away?” or
“is Selina that really twitchy one?” or
“you mean that imaginary cat that no one has ever actually seen?”
You get the picture. So I moved into phase two of the relocation plan. I contacted all the area no-kill animal shelters, but to no avail. They’re all full up, and generally don’t take in animals who are as old and/or neurotic as my cats (as they are unlikely to be adopted). Plus they’ll make you feel bucket loads of guilt for even inquiring about it. There was one sanctuary that does accept “difficult to place” animals. But at a cost. My life. And then some. The deal is I can donate $400 per animal now, and in the event that I die before they do, then, and only then, will they take in the cats. Umm, no. I think I’ll take my chances. So back to J. We’re stuck in a no-win situation. He’s been sick three times now since he moved in, and the cats only aggravate his condition. It takes much longer for him to become well again. Tonight he’s off to stay at his sister’s hypoallergenic household in hopes of getting some relief. We briefly discussed this before he left. Somewhat jokingly I pleaded with him “but when will I see you again?” His reply, “Soon. I’m too dumb to stay away.” Ain’t love grand.