I’m too allergic fur this.


*scratch* *scratch* *scratch*

What the…?

*scratch* *scratch* *scratch*

The scratching was persistent. I peeked out my window to see what kind of midnight monster was outside before opening my door to the darkness and came face to face with a tiny calico. As soon as I pushed the screen aside to allow for some ear scratches he squeezed through the anti-burgle bars and bounded around my tiny studio apartment, exploring every nook and cranny before making himself comfortable in the middle of my bed.

I let him cuddle until I my eyes turned red and puffy and the threat of hives grew too great.

After our evening of bonding, Cat-Cat (I’m super original when naming other peoples’ pets) would wait for me to get home from work, race to my door, and attempt to slip inside as soon as I opened it. Eventually I started leaving my front door wide open so he could come and go as he pleased, or for as long as my allergies would allow.

He was the best non-pet cat a girl could ask for.

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