by Michelle Merz

Created on: May 09, 2008   Last Updated: September 10, 2009

Ever since I was a small child I loved cats, and they loved me. My poor parents never understood. Dogs were loyal, good friends that played games with you. Cats, well just weren't the same to them.

Only one problem lurked in the forefront of my love affair. It was my cat allergy. Allergy shots helped somewhat, as did medicine, but it was not perfect.

As love would have it, I married a cat lover. So while all our newly married friends discussed having babies, my husband and I debated owning a cat. We succumbed and owned cats. They were the free to good home varieties that weren't really free once you neutered or spayed them and took care of fleas, worms and other exotic diseases. After our last cat died due to kidney failure, I swore off cats, over the protests of my husband and two cat-loving daughters.

However, after a year I could not resist the lure of a cat, even though my sinuses could. Researching the Internet late one night, I found Siberian cats. They were gorgeous, long-haired felines. My heart melted. It wasn't difficult for the rest of the family to fall in love with the bushy tailed, full mane beauties. The price was, well, heart stopping, but at least one of our free kitties had become a $1,000 dollar cat with a trip to the animal emergency clinic.

One of the breeders was about two hours from us. My manly spouse called with the trepidation of a young boy asking for a first date. Yes the breeder had one kitten left. With an impulsive yes, we piled into the car the following weekend for a road trip to see the darling little fluff ball.

And darling he was. It was love at first sight. He cuddled right up to me, no sneezes, no itchiness. The breeder apologized that the cat was not show quality. Through dazzled eyes, we said it did not matter. The breeder had her four year old bring a couple of show cats so she could explain the difference. Yes, her four year old son brought two very compliant huge fuzzy creatures, to us. He carried them as children would, without supporting the back end. The cats were very relaxed. Aha, another joy of the breed - well socialized to children. Though our breeder explained why our kitten, which we named Pushkin, would not be a show cat, I remember none of the explanation, since he was the most gorgeous ball of fluff I had ever seen.

We shelled out $400 that day and signed a release that we would neuter him. We probably would have signed our life away for him. Pushkin had definitely become the rock star of the house. He i a

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