Eeeeekkkkkkk! I just found TWO fleas on the Bisc. TWO. That I had to track down under his wiry fur and crush between my fingernails like a mother chimpanzee. Then I combed him, suspiciously examining each bit of dirt removed in the process. Fleas!
Fleas on the pup who spent part of the night snuggling in MY bed against ME. Fleas on the pup whom I religiously dose with Sentinel once a month. Fleas on the pup who right now is sleeping on my favorite reading chair.
I’ve NEVER seen a flea on the cats, whom I dose regularly with Revolution. Maybe I should throw some extra Revo on the Bisc? Chemicals smemicals. I love the environment and my health as much as anyone else, but damn, I hate fleas. They are almost as bad as flies. Not quite, though.
I really, really hate flies. I bit E-spouse’s head off and considered feeding his brain to the seagulls when we were leaving the beach and he left the van open, every smucking door open, next to the full trash cans. There was an open banana on the boy’s seat. When I put my camera in the van, there were at least 20 flies buzzing around, INSIDE the van. I freaked. Poor E had to drive around the block with the windows open swatting flies out the window for like ten minutes while I hyperventilated and the kids hid.
Flies are disgusting. Their babies are maggots. They get nasty disease-ridden motes of blood and poop on their little insect legs. THEN they land on your food. The food that you’re about to put in your mouth.
Flies eat poop. Biscy eats poop too. But he’s adorable in every other way.
