Sunday afternoon, the entire family, including Lucy, loaded up and went to Chris’s parents house for our weekly Sunday dinner. Recently, one of their two dogs passed away and propelling the remain pup, Smokey, into a mournful depression. He’s been crying for days, and though he looks like a bloated pinto bean with legs, he has horrible hound bay that’s terrorized their neighborhood for a week and a half. We thought some playtime with Lucy would cheer him up a bit, and I think it did the trick. Lucy, on the other hand, was really put out with being outside for several hours with a dog that didn’t match her intellectually or athletically (again, he’s a pinto bean with legs). Despite her snobbish attitude, I think the exercise did both dogs some good.
The next day, I wasn’t as pleased about our playdate. You see, the pinto bean is an outdoor dog, and our aristocrat is an indoor dog. Outdoor dogs often have fleas. Though Lucy has been treated with flea medicine, that medicine only kills the fleas that bite her. It does not kill the fleas that jump on her fur and then flee from it in our house. (Okay, forgive me for the pun.) Monday morning, as I was sitting in the nursery pumping down my super engorged boob, I saw a flea jump on my leg. Then off. Then back on. Of course, I was trying to catch it with my non-dominant, slightly retarded left hand since my right hand was holding the pump horn. After several frantic tries, I managed to capture it and stab it with my fingernail. That’s quite a mental image, huh?
Chris promptly called an exterminator while Cecilia and I sought refuge at his parents house (avoiding the outside and the pinto bean). Thankfully they came quickly and sprayed the house. Though we won’t be flea-free for a week or so, the spray does render them sterile, which is good considering that one female flea can lay up to 800 eggs. (Don’t wikipedia these things if you ever have bug problem. It just makes the panic and repulsion that much worse.)
On Tuesday, another flea jumped on me. There was some comfort in knowing that we prevented the little punk from passing on his lineage, but it’s still creepy to find a bug on your body. For the rest of the day, I had phantom bugs crawling on me. (You know the feeling. It’s why your head always itches after someone mentions headlice. Go ahead, try to ignore the tickle on you feel on your scalp right now.) For those reasons, I am very thankful for Burt’s Bees Peppermint Shower Soap. It has a nice gritty texture that exfoliates all the phantom fleas. Also, it has a clean minty smell that makes you forget about the smell of bug spray, even if that moment is only short lived.
For the next few weeks, we have to vacuum every nook of our house twice a day. I love my Dyson vacuuming cleaner, but I don’t love it that much. It’s going to be a workout, but it’s still much better than the idea of flea larvae living in my carpet. Okay, time to go take a shower. My head is itching again.