Dad’s condition actually put mom in a much better mood. For the next couple of weeks, every time dad walked into a room, mom broke into a huge grin. She’d give me a quick hug and would rush from the room. I swear I could hear laughing. I really don’t understand my parents.

I started feeling bad about Harold, however. Sure, patches of his hair were growing back in (a bit faster then dad’s actually), but the vet had taken the marble out and he looked kind of pathetic. He needed a patch… like a pirate. I was going to find him one…