An adorable cat who doesn't make me sneeze.Better yet -- a beautiful boy... who owns an adorable cat that won't make me allergic. Furthermore, this hypothetical cat will know how much love I have for it and with me its loyalty will lie. However, the beautiful boy will not necessarily know how much I love him ("him" being the beautiful boy -- pronouns can be so confusing!). So, the boy will not necessarily know how much I love him; or, more likely he will not know how much he loves me. He’ll end it. I’ll get dumped. The cat will miss me. It will meow and meow. It will even begin to hiss at the boy. It will resent the boy for excusing from its life the one person with enough affection and devotion for the both of them. It will start urinating in places other than its litter box. All the while, as the boy's animal companion withholds its love from the boy and the apartment's signature smell becomes a rich blend of Fancy Feast residue and fermenting Thanatos, the boy will come to his senses. He will feel foolish. The cat will practically pick up the phone and dial my number for him, purring at the prospect of having me back in its life. If the boy could purr I’d like to assume that he too would be purring. He is nervous. At the cat's suggestion he might go out and eat some grass before going to the designated place where I've agreed to meet him after much insistence and begging and grovelling on his part (all of which, i might add, will pain me terribly because my love is so true and i will be unable to derive satisfaction from his desperation). He’ll convince me, and we'll be together again, the three of us, with the turbulent times behind us and our bond even stronger for the pain we've endured. My fragile, atrophied heart will convalesce without incident, and I will continue to find myself disinclined to sneeze. I’m actually not a fan of drama, believe it or not, but I am quite fond of cats and boys and stories in which cats are the heroes.