A Sister for Otis?

Two weeks ago I noticed that Otis seemed a little bit depressed. He's not as outgoing since we've lived here. He could miss the three neighborhood cats that used to spend lots of time on our back porch, just on the other side of the glass from his cat tree. He used to run at the window and scare them, or just lay on the floor on one side of the door while they slept on the other side of the window. Now he is all alone. There is Oscar, the neighborhood cat who sashays across our backyard from time to time, or "Fat Mary," the next door neighbor's cat. So I told Sam just last week that I thought we needed to get Otis a little sister. He'd love that. Sam agreed.
Then, one of my therapist supervisees casually told me Thursday that his wife had one more kitten left from a litter that she'd found on their property. Wouldn't I like to have a kitten? Thinking about Otis, I told him that if he'd send me a photo, I'd send it on to Sam and we'd have a family planning discussion about it and let him know.
Friday morning I went in to my allergist and got tested for every sort of substance that one could react to. So I got pin pricks on each lower arm--40 on each lower arm, in fact. Then I got exactly 48 injections in each upper arm, each numbered and lettered. In 24 and 48 hours I measured the size of the welts and sent it off to my allergist.
It seems that I am allergic to cats. How could I have ever known that? We can't part with Otis, and won't even consider it. But I had to call my supervisee and decline his offer to give us little Fiona.
Aw, shucks.
Now we are happy with Otis and he is enough for me.
Sniff, sniff.