It really wasn't my intention to break my long silence with a post like this, but the subject demands venting. I was ashamed even to mention it, till I learned that it's a bad problem all over this year.
Fleas!
FLEAS!
We haz fleas!
And I thought we didn't. I'd been sympathizing with my friend Hannah* since the end of last month, because her dog and cat and kitten and her whole house was infested. I'd been empathetic with the customers who came into the Big Blue Box Store (where I've worked since last March) wanting advice on flea remedies. I listened attentively-- for informational purposes only, I thought-- to a fellow store associate as she coached a customer in the flea-removal uses of Dawn dish soap.
My house had no fleas! I hadn't seen any, and don't the kids all sleep with me? I would be hopping with them myself if we had them, right? True, Llewellyn had been itching awhile, so badly that he'd chewed the hair off the back of his hind legs. But that had to be a dietary deficiency. He'd grown immune to his dogfood, that was it, and I was trying out another brand to see if that would help. And it seemed to, a little.
Then two days after the conversation in the store, Sunday night two weeks ago, I had Rhadwen in my lap as I sat at the computer. And what do I see in her white fur? Flea dirt!
She got a bath in blue Dawn that night. She cried the whole time, but was very good and didn't scratch me once.
Llewellyn stood outside the bathroom door and barked and barked and
barked! Never mind your noise, goggie! You'll get yours. Which he did, the next afternoon. He's not fond of water, either. I had to pick him up and put him in the tub. But once in, he yielded to the treatment, with some trembling, poor thing.
The following Friday I noticed some more fleas on him when we were outside for his bathroom break. He got a touch-up with the hose.
Last Saturday I headed for the local Tractor Supply store, because I heard they had economically-priced anti-flea medicine, and food grade diatomaceous earth at a good per-pound price. It's made of ground-up fossils and its sharp-edged grittiness rips the nits and larvae to
def!
Got the carpets vacuumed up as well as I could reach with my upright Oreck (with a flea collar in it to kill them), then loaded the garden puffer with D.E. and went to work in the guest bedroom (formerly the Kitten Room).
Oh, dear. This will not do. Diatomaceous earth. As in
earth. Like,
dirt. It looked awful. I just couldn't see coating my carpets with it. And letting the dog and the cats roll in it and get filthy after their baths. And having them and me track it all over the house, including all over the stairs I'd just touched up with nice, shiny new shellac. It'd scrape the hell out of the finish.
I think I'll use it in the garden instead.
Meanwhile, the bathing campaign went on. Last Monday, Huw got his. He's very strong, and definitely let me know how he felt about it (
"Maow! maow! maow!), but he held still once he was in, and scratched my left arm only a little when at one point he tried to use me a a ladder.
Llewellyn got a repeat bath late Tuesday evening.
And Rhadwen had to undergo the ordeal again on Wednesday. Poor thing, her head is so tiny it's hard to get it lathered up really well. And just as I thought we were done, I noticed that a good many live fleas were headed for her face.
Noooooo!!!!!! Die, monsters, DIE!!!!
By yesterday afternoon everyone had been bathed and had their topical flea medicine applied-- except for Gwenith. At six years she's still my shy, skittish girl, and won't let herself be touched unless she feels she has you confined or at some disadvantage. I even ran the bath for her Thursday night, but the water went cold before I could get her corralled.
But yesterday I caught her on the stairs, happily while I was carrying a towel, and whisked her upstairs and into the bathroom.
No pictures of Gwen in the bath. The steam shorted out my digital camera while I was working on Rhadwen on Wednesday. She reacted totally contrary to what I'd expected. Thought I'd be chasing her all over the bathroom. But no. As long as I held her gently but firmly, and maintained a calm, soothing attitude (the attitude of the bath-giver is very important!) she held still.
Oh, she did cry at some points. Sounded uncannily human:
"No! No! No!" But when I was massaging the lather into her, she quieted down and even relaxed.
Which was a jolly good thing, because when I had her rinsed off and I thought we were done, when I had her out of the bath and onto the towel, I noticed her chest was still crawling with live fleas!
Aaaaagggghhhh!! Back in the tub, and through the whole process all over again!
Even then, I think there were one or two that were clinging so tightly to her fur I couldn't get them either with my fingers or the flea comb. Tried and tried to get them out, and maybe I did, but I figured by then she had had enough. After I dried her off, she ran into the guest bedroom and crawled into a rip in the box spring cover and hid.
Last night as I lay in bed reading she was speaking to me again. Which was good, because her ordeal wasn't over: I still had to treat her with the topical medicine. Poor thing, betrayed again! I got it on her, she headed for the hills, and I didn't see (or feel) her again last night.
What now? Everyone has apparently forgiven me; at least, they're all being sociable and no little revenge presents have been left in the laundry basket. Llewellyn still has some live fleas on him; at least, he did this morning, and got another sponge bath. But he's not itching like he was, and the hair's growing back on his hind shanks. The kittehs are still scratching here and there, but I don't know how long the histamine in a flea bite lasts after the fleas themselves are dead.
I wonder if there's a flea powder or spray I can use on the kids to supplement the action of the topical medicine. And how long after applying the latter I can give them another bath. Though I'd like to avoid that if I can-- and I'm sure they feel the same.
Still need to do something about the carpets and chairs and so on. It's hard to get the place really clean, since I'm still, perpetually, eternally renovating. But I have to try. Forgive me, but I'm contemplating chemical (vs. mechanical) methods.
I wonder if my exterminator knows a product that'd be good. Unfortunately, I find I forgot to pay him so far for this quarter's treatment. I think I'd better take care of that before I go asking for free advice.
