Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Death to You, Evil Parasites!!

Several weeks back I discovered a single flea on Zozo's tummy, with a few small spots of flea dirt.  Acting quickly, I beheaded the little bugger and removed his mess; but I couldn't help noticing that he was walking instead of hopping.  It seemed odd to me, so I attributed it to the garlic and brewer's yeast pills we've been giving her - a drunk flea? Why not?  Surely this all natural preventative has some effect on its intended target, right?

Happy in that knowledge, I went about life as usual, periodically checking her for the insidious little critters.  Found one more a few days later - also sluggishly making his way across her tummy - and likewise beheaded him.  Then there was about a week of peace without even a sign of disgusting creepy-crawlies.

Last Monday I took her to work with me and, while giving her a tummy rub in the middle of my boss's living room rug, I was horrified to find three of the nasty little dudes very happily setting up shop.  That evening I warned my boss and she was kind enough to let me borrow the flea and tick shampoo they had on hand.  Apparently our lack of a real winter this year makes for a mega-batch of fleas, and their dog had also gotten some earlier in the spring.

[Just a quick note here: you know how all someone has to do is mention the word lice and your head starts itching?  Well, apparently fleas work the same way . . .]

But as I was saying, quite against her will, Zoey got a good scrubbing and soaking as soon as we got home that night - thankfully I had a very capable assistant, or the whole ordeal would've been even more blog-worthy.  I know, would've made for a better read; but I prefer it this way, thankyouverymuch.

While Zoey dried in her crate, her beds were getting a good washing in hot water.  I actually feared that I had broken the washer when I opened it and a huge cloud of steam came out.  But all went well, and I was satisfied that no flea could've survived all of that.  And it seemed that I was right.  Daily flea checks were coming up clean and I was convinced that I had been victorious in ridding my dog and our house of the infestation.

Apparently I forgot to cleanse the yard; because tonight I discovered several more fleas, and lots more dirt on her tummy.  She's also been scratching her head as if they're up there too. [Dangit, now my head itches again.]  And these guys are resilient!  I tore one in half, then watched his head (with legs attached) crawl across my hand in search of some place to hide and recuperate.  I'm fairly certain I heard a snarky little flea voice saying, "It's only a flesh wound!"

So, despite my misgivings, I dug down into my crate of dog paraphernalia and found the last dose of Frontline Plus that I've been hanging onto simply because I couldn't bring myself to throw it away after spending money on it.  We switched to the all-natural method shortly after I got her because it seemed that Frontline was making her sick; but desperate times call for desperate measures.  According to the box, it'll kill them in all their stages, and prevent a re-infestation for up to three months.  Yes, please.

Having unleashed my chemical weapon, now I have only to sit back and wait.  Will they die?  Oh, I hope so.

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