In Which Connor's Toothpaste Is Not, In Fact, The Culprit

Connor's mysterious hives are back.

Not only that, but the skin on his hands, especially around his thumb, is so dry that it's cracking. The dryness and the total lack of a pattern surrounding the breakouts makes me wonder, yet again, if this is actually an eczema outbreak centered on the parts of his body that are wet pretty often: his face, hands and stomach.

So I'm dosing him with Benadryl again and treating the sites with some hydrocortisone. We'll see if that helps. I sure hope that does the trick; the little guy looks miserable. Otherwise it'll be back to the drawing board.

It's finally starting to look like fall around here; the rain has started and doesn't show any signs of letting up. The Pacific Northwest rainy season always makes me want to go into hibernation mode-- I find myself making three or four cups of tea a day and you can track my movement through the house by where blankets are puddled on various pieces of furniture. For whatever reason, this weather seems to have the opposite effect on the cats. They're going absolutely bonkers: bouncing around the house after each other, knocking over lamps, and forming little furry whirling dervishes. Cats are not known for their logic, however, so I probably shouldn't be surprised.

When they do finally settle down they usually do so in highly inconvenient places; Cricket favors my living room chair and gives anyone who attempts to move her a look that informs you she'll be spending the next several hours plotting their demise. Loki, on the other hand, sprawls out in the middle of the hallway, sometimes pressed half up against the wall in what looks like the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever. When Jer wheels down the hallway he gets up at the last possible second, whisking his tail out of the way of the wheels and strolling off nonchalantly as if he meant to get up just that very moment and wasn't actually in danger of being run over at all. One of these days he's not going to flick his tail out of the way fast enough, and Much Sadness Will Occur. Oh well.

Crazy cats.

~Jess