Chatty-Ruf!
We have fleas. That's right. Today, I venture out to buy flea collars for Molly, Shelby and me. They each get one for their necks. I get one for my neck, one for each wrist, one to belt around my waist, and one for each ankle. Since we arrived home from our trip, something has taken over my bedding. Every morning I wake up with more red welt-looking bites on me. Molly and Shelby have both been scratching like crazy (and not just their booty-scoot-boogie on the carpet!) This morning was the worst - I itch terribly!! And it's not pretty. When Ron gets home tomorrow night after 4 days in California, I'll look really attractive. I'll be all bumpy and probly covered with that cute pink-dried-on-liquid-de-itcher. What a hottie!
I actually researched remedies for fleas and for itching because I'm out of anything helpful in my medicine cabinet. They suggested flea dips, sprays, powders, incantations and voo-doo. And since I'm the size of a very large rottweiler, I figger they've got to have a flea dip that will work on me. And I bet I'll smell as good as I look. Don't worry, Ronnie, I'm all yours~!
Better get going . . . gotta get to Walmart and get myself an ID tag printed!
I actually researched remedies for fleas and for itching because I'm out of anything helpful in my medicine cabinet. They suggested flea dips, sprays, powders, incantations and voo-doo. And since I'm the size of a very large rottweiler, I figger they've got to have a flea dip that will work on me. And I bet I'll smell as good as I look. Don't worry, Ronnie, I'm all yours~!
Better get going . . . gotta get to Walmart and get myself an ID tag printed!
2 comments:
Kath, you need to put a sign at the foot of your bed that says "Kathy" and get yerself a big ceramic water bowl. And if you start doing that scooter libby thing on the carpet hopefully Ron will know it's time to call the vet.
I ruv roo, Rorge!
Jen
I'm so glad to know that I'm not the only one who has had to deal with fleas this year. I haven't tried flea collars on myself, but the ones on my cats have proven themselves to be rather lame.
I recently discovered that my cats had shared their fleas with my downstairs couch. I also discovered that the couch is far too big for a flea bath or a collar. Yes, even bigger than a rottweiler. I think it's even bigger than a great dane.
Anyway, I've resorted to the terrorist version of flea treatments -- bombing. Fortunately, I don't have to strap it to myself. In fact, it has given me a good excuse to go out on the town for several hours.
I have, however, discovered that giving a flea bath to a cat is something quite like strapping a bomb to myself. And my cats have certainly let me know that this sort of activity ranks me right up there with the terrorists in their minds.
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