“When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade, without further introduction.” – Mark Twain
In addition to hailing from the same hometown, and possessing a similar proclivity for writing, Mark Twain and I also have in common an affection for creatures of the feline variety. However, my predilection for cats is unfortunately countered by a severe allergy to the small beasts.
My earliest memory of having an allergic reaction to cats occurred when my parents decided to move our family into a rental property in Hannibal, Missouri, when my brother and I were young boys. As our parents carried furniture and boxes into the house, Blake and I occupied ourselves in our usual fashion—a spirited wrestling match.
Though three and a half years separated us in age, my younger brother often proved to be a worthy adversary. Whenever he felt that I had gained the upper-hand in one of our skirmishes, Blake would employ his patented “kicking machine” technique in an attempt to fend off my attack. This method, one in which Blake would lie on his back and flail his legs as if he were frantically pedaling an invisible, inverted bicycle, inevitably provoked me to react in one of two ways: Uncontrollable laughter and/or uncontrollable rage.
~ Read the rest in today’s Journal ~