Can a Cat Allergy Stop Love? Not For Wes & Raphael!
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Welcome to the Wednesday Cats of Catster! Every week, we share a story from one of our cat-loving Catsters. This week is about Wes and his fiercely cuddly Russian Blue, Raphael.
There it was, in bright red letters. They weren’t ashamed to tell me that I was allergic to Raphael.
In many ways, it was something I should have already known. Although getting him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, it did come with its challenges. Why did I always seem to have a blocked nose these days? Why was I crying when no romantic comedy was on the TV today? These were the questions I asked myself as I worked through boxes and boxes of tissues, my grocery order becoming laden with more and more items for sneeze collection.
But I couldn’t admit the truth to myself or anyone else. “Maybe you’re allergic?” “Impossible,” I’d retort, with bloodshot eyes and a nose twice its normal size.
Two things though started to make me feel like I needed an answer. First, any time I went away and Raphael was at home, my problematic nose would suddenly become….not so. Second, I was diagnosed with Asthma last year (perhaps as a result of a few unfortunate Covid collections). My doctor informed me that if I was allergic and didn’t know it, that could be exacerbating any symptoms I might be struggling with.
That was it. I had to know. Even though I knew. I had to know.
And now I know.
A few vials of blood, a few pages of paper, and a phone call were all it took to turn someone’s cat world upside down.
They informed me that it was sufficiently severe that I shouldn’t:
- “Cuddle Raphael”
- “Kiss Raphael”
- “Even approach a cat you do not know”
This was worse than when the dentist told me sparkling water was bad for your teeth (“Now they’re even trying to take water away from me?! What’s left?!”). Were they trying to kill me? To tear out my heart? Apparently they weren’t trying to kill me, but my cat might be.
I told them in no uncertain terms that although I could just about restrain myself from petting an unknown cat, I simply could not resist snuggling, cuddling, hand-holding, kissing, petting and generally nuisance-ing my little boy, Raphael. Otherwise, what is life for?
Despite the heartache I felt, I don’t regret getting the tests done. It’s always better to know than to live in doubt, and it’s helped me make some significant changes to ease the burden:
Perhaps the most significant is that I now take a daily (or every other day) antihistamine. For my level of allergy, I’ve found this to be quite effective at reducing any problems I face, and it’s made cuddling with Raphy considerably easier.
I try to clean the floors more than I did. Previously we’d go over them a few days a week, and mop them once a week. Now to lift the dander out, we throw the windows open and try to give the floors a going over once a day. It’s hard to tell what difference this has made, honestly. But perhaps the very act itself makes my brain feel better.
Finally, I now only cuddle Raphael once a day and give him a kiss every other day…
Ok, you caught me on that one, obviously not. I kiss him as often as I can and cuddle him as much as he’ll let me. If anything, sometimes he seems more allergic to me than I am to him!
I think having a pet is a privilege, not a right. Life changes, and throws things at you, and you have to roll with it. I’d never judge anyone for making a decision that they feel they need to make, but my relationship with Raphy won’t change one bit simply because I know that he makes me sick. I won’t allow it to. Because it isn’t his fault, and he wouldn’t do it if he could help it. Hopefully, somewhere in that lovely brain of his, he knows how much he means to us and that nothing could stop us from loving him.
Now, I’d love to know, has anything unexpected happened after you got a cat that tried to stand in the way of your love? Did you discover some nasty allergies, or was something else the culprit?
P.S. If you’re reading this after reading an announcement on the website that I have died from anaphylactic shock, please get a tiny pair of handcuffs and arrest that criminal cat!
- Read his previous article: Cats and the Art of Hygge: Raphy Cuddles Up