Monster is infested. We left her for the week while we were in Hawaii and she brought back a few hundred friends upon our return. Last night, we thought she just wreaked from being outside so much while we were gone so we gave her a bath. Little did we know, the dark brown/red water circling the drain along with little clumps of dirt (which now we understand were actually fleas) was actually the blood-filled flea excrement on her body. C'mon...are you serious? If that isn't bad enough, she slept in our bed last night. Of course, it had to be freezing so instead of sleeping under the bed, she sleep in between our blankets (mostly under). I don't think I can ever look at my bed the same. Let's just say, we have been breaking in our new laundry machines ALL NIGHT LONG. And, instead of our usual Thursday night ritual of champagne and The Office, we spent the evening scrubbing, anti-flea sudsing, bathing, brushing, combing, picking and tweezing fleas from her thick coat, dead and alive. It disgusts me to my core. I am literally beside myself, trying to figure out how to cope with this. I am the person that shrieks when she sees a spider in her house or a gnat flying around the garbage can. Critters are not meant to cohabitat with humans, in my opinion. Ever. No exceptions. Now, I have a sneaking suspicion they are hiding in fabric in our home. Gross.
Note: I understand if nobody wants to come to our house again. I would probably do the same thing, if the tables were turned.
Now, Kevin says that after 3 anti-flea baths, they have moved their way back down to her backside. So, with tweezers in hand, I'm signing off.
Ahh, life. You never know what's waiting around the bend (or in your dog's fur).
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