By Bob Wagner, AAP Columnist

Ah, the sweet smell of spring! Then the “ahs” become “ah-choo!” Sneezing and snorkeling go hand in hand with the balmy breezes. I’m just getting over the winter cold virus, and now transition to a pollen-induced drippy nose. At least I didn’t put away the tissues in my truck, shop, and every pocket of my jackets and shirts.

I am reminded of the old adage, “no good deed goes unpunished.” But the tradeoff from cold and soggy to warm, soft spring is one I can still embrace with open arms. Also, open tackle boxes. Yep! Time to sit riverside, awaiting nibbles from the migrating stripers. I’ve found a sandy section of beach where I can sit in the sun, half paying attention to my rod, and half looking up and down the high water line for more driftwood to carve.

I spent a lot of time this winter carving canes, walking sticks, and logs. I run towards faces, called wood spirits, with wild beards and hair lines that seem to fly off the wood. I have a sizeable collection already, and am contemplating selling a few this year at weekend fairs. That would justify buying some more carving tools for bigger work. Just when I thought there was no way to add more “stuff” to my collection of hobbies, I find this.

I’m looking out my back window to see what the commotion is out in the alley. Some screeching and cat fight noise have disrupted my already weak concentration. I see the old grey cat facing off with two younger tiger striped hooligans. They are, I believe, Bob’s siblings. They have become more visible as of late, because someone the bride knows intimately has been putting food and water out regularly. The bride has warned that feeding and housing two cats in the alley would draw more cats. She, who is always right, is again correct.

Bob, the affectionate little booger, has been given flea drops. It has been some time now since a flea has been spotted, but Bob still seeks more rubs and scratches every day. Last night, Bob came over for dinner, but ignored the last piece of the bride’s meat loaf and begged for scratches. Unfortunately, Bob jumps a foot every time I sneeze. He comes right back for more attention, then jumps a foot or two when I again sneeze. Thank goodness the meatloaf won out over the scratches, as I feared Bob would pull a muscle from all that jumping about.

Jones is still contemplating adoption, but mulls over disruption to his bachelor existence. Bob, on the other hand, seems more adept at outdoor living. Besides his own cat condo across the alley, he has two, if not more, steady meals per day. But the bride and I will be on the road again, soon. Bob, apparently, is not invited. One Bob per road trip is all the bride can handle.

If you see Jones, offer gentle encouragement. They make such a cute couple.