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She was usually allergic to cats, but not the one who entered her life to look after her.
"Girlie must be the one cat you’re not allergic to,” my husband, Jim, said. It didn’t make any sense. I’d agreed to keep a friend’s cat for three weeks, knowing I was highly allergic.
I figured I’d just add allergy pills to my daily medical regimen, since I was already managing type 1 diabetes. But a week had passed and I hadn’t taken one allergy pill. Even with Girlie curled up on our bed at night, none of my usual symptoms had shown up.
“What is it about you?” I asked her one night when I climbed in bed.
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Later I woke up to Jim’s gentle shakes. “We have to check your blood sugar!” he was saying. The sheets were wet. I was covered in sweat. My blood sugar was dangerously low–life threatening. Jim gave me a shot to raise it quickly.
“I would have slept through the crisis if Girlie hadn’t batted me in the face with her paws,” Jim said.
Girlie never went back to my friend’s house. She curls up with me every night, like a guardian angel watching over me. And, of course, no one is allergic to angels.
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