Oh, God, is this my life. My brother has accused my mother of choosing her cats over her grandchildren (although he's the allergic one, not them, and she is always more than happy to visit him, a whopping ten miles away). He even got mad when I got a cat and was living 1700 miles away, as if he had visited me even once before then. Now, my cats are the "reason" no one drives the 3.5 hours to visit me, ever, for any special occasion (my sister's husband is also allergic). As if they'd ever visit if I didn't have cats, and as if I'm supposed to give up love and companionship on the off chance that they might decide to visit some day.