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journaling reads:
Sadly, I'm badly allergic to balls of fur. My eyes swell, my nose runs, my skin breaks out in hives, and my throat develops a tickle whenever there's a furry creature nearby. These are minor inconveniences, really, so I'd be happy to ignore them... but they aren't the true problem. Pet dander sets off my asthma - itchy eyes are one thing, but an inability to breathe is something entire different. As much as I'd love a pet (I've always considered myself more of a dog person than a cat person incidentally), I can't pretend breathing isn't an important thing for me to do. So, my contact with creatures most people think of as pets is extremely limited - because to me, they aren't pets, but cuddly little instruments of death.
Since I crave interaction with fuzzy creatures, I keep a handful of stuffed animals around. They may not be able to provide company the way a puppy would, but they at least allow me to squeeze something fluffy when the need arises. And they make a lot less mess. They also make excellent missiles to launch at my husband when I feel the urge to throw something at him. Better than pots and pans, right? :)
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August 21, 2006
August 17, 2006
August 17, 2006