Home Invasion

I was really excited about tonight. For the first time in several days, the kids were going to bed early, I had nothing that needed to get done, so I had the entire evening to do absolutely nothing. I plop on the couch and prepare for a riveting evening of Pinterest and Netflix (my two drugs of choice). 

Until I glance over my laptop and notice Chance sitting staring at me scratching incessantly. Then I shift my eyes over to Juno. She's scratching. Then I look over at Jersey sitting above me on the top of the couch. She's munching on her fur (you know, like how cats do). And there I see it on her white fur. A FLEA. 

We had a major flea problem in our outside garden so I thought maybe just maybe one happened to hop in and land itself on Jersey. But then I ran my fingers through Juno's thin fur. More fleas. Not a ton, but enough.

We are under attack.

The worst part about this b.s. is that the animals are totally on monthly flea and tick prevention. It's been 3 weeks since their last flea treatment so it should still be working. But we tried a new cheaper brand this time around and apparently cheaper isn't better in this case. 

I thought well, I'll have my nice evening tonight and then bathe them and wash all the dog bedding tomorrow. But then every time they scratched, I twitched. And every time a single fiber from my shirt moved half a centimeter I lost my mind and felt like I was totally crawling with parasites. 

Fine. Screw my lazy evening. There's FLEAS involved. 

So I threw all the dog bedding in the washing machine and then prepared to give ALL the animals a flea bath. Did I mention that NONE of my animals appreciate water, even my dogs? They don't. They hate it. 

Jersey was first and gave me a run for my money. She scaled the bathtub and knocked down all the shampoo bottles and then to pay me back for the terrible things I was doing to her she completely hooked her enormous sharp claw all the way to the quik into my finger. Which was really hard to pull out. Which caused a lot of blood and pain and all those fun things. And at that point I said this bath is over and threw her out (once I somehow got her claw out of my hand). 

Me and a small wet bag of Anger. Pre-Claw-Assault

The dogs were next. Juno hates water but it loyal enough that if I tell her to jump in the tub, she will. Now when Chance is in the tub, she lovingly sticks her nose in the tub and licks her brother as if to soothe him. But while Juno is in the tub, Chance is curled up in a teeny tiny little ball in the corner of the bathroom trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. You're on your own Juno. 

Luckily, the dogs don't bite and scratch and panic like the damn cat does. 

Meanwhile, a new round of treatment has been applied and all the bedding/towels/everything is being washed on hot stain cycle. Die you miserable little buggers. 

War wounds. Pic doesn't do justice. For one little puncture wound, there is a LOT of blood. All down my hand too.

 

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