Henry the Perpetual Kitten

Henry, though a young man of two years, is still very much a kitten. He's had a challenging year with many visits to the vet as we try to figure out why he licks tongue-shaped bald spots in his beautiful buff coat. We've ruled out food allergies, neurosis and Cancer (hooray). "Mr. Man" (one of countless nick-names) shares my propensity for autoimmune issues. I get itchy psoriasis, he gives himself racing stripes.

He is taking a medication that is not a steroid (double hooray) that is helping him. Steroids, which he's taken a couple of rounds of, changed his personality ever so slightly, making him a little offish, so I'm over the moon that the new meds allow him to be the sweet boy who is attached to my side, unless he's flying around the house or watching birds and squirrels with his sister.

I still marvel at how much love I have for Agnes and Henry and marvel at their truly delightful nature. Not having any children, I can only imagine that this is the joy happy parents feel about their progeny. I've never felt that way about children, so I'll just bask in warm-fuzzies that our dear Pettibones bring to our home.