With any luck, one day soon I will rise above the banality and talk about more interesting things. But today is not that day.
Fleas, friends. As if I have nothing else to do this week - what, with the moving and the roving baby and upcoming birthdays and various other deadlines - Taylor has fleas. Again. He had them two weeks ago, and we treated them as though we were scouring the PLAGUE from our home. He took oral medicine, he was bathed, he was brushed, he was treated with ridiculously expensive medicine (that we have always used on him - fleas weren't supposed to even be possible, in my mind, for as much as we spend on preventatives). It's supposed to last a month. So how in the name of all that is holy did he get them yesterday in the backyard?
I believe the fleas are winning.
May your day be merry and bright. And may your pets be spared of genetically superior fleas.
2 comments:
They are such a pain to get rid of.
Here, we have slugs. They somehow get into the kitchen at night and leave behind slime. It is really gross and it drives my husband batty. One day last summer, I came down to the kitchen and he seemed exuberant. "I think I've outsmarted the slugs," he told me.
All that evolution and that's all we have to say for ourselves?
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