I had all sorts of wonderful blog posts planned for the end of last week and this weekend. I thought I’d start with a lovey-dovey post on Thursday celebrating our 6 year wedding anniversary with you. Then I’d get up a 365 2011 post for Friday along with a Let’s Get Serious post I’ve been working on for weeks. Then I’d post some great crafty eye candy. But life rarely turns out as planned, so it’s been a little empty around here. This is why:
We’ve been on a misadventure. The past week, one disaster after another fell. We noticed at the beginning of the week that our two kitties, Ashes and Charcoal, had a few fleas. Uh-oh. We didn’t even know indoor cats could get fleas, so we haven’t ever put preventative medicines on them. We tried to stay on top of things by giving the cats flea baths immediately, combing for fleas, cleaning the spots they usually sleep in, and applying a topical flea treatment to the cats’ necks. They had to stay locked up away from each other for 48 hours so they wouldn’t lick the medicine off of each other, so they were miserable (but not as miserable as they’d be a few days later).
Thursday comes. Jake and I celebrated our 6 year anniversary by going out to eat at the Cheesecake Factory with the kids. We came back and I gave the kitties another flea shampoo bath. They were pretty good during the whole thing, put you’d think I was pulling out their paw nails with pliers by the way they howled. I learned the hard way that you don’t flip a cat on its back to wash its stomach (I now have a big scratch on my foot). How to wash a cat’s tummy: stand them up on their hind legs, supporting underneath their “arms” and scrub away. When I brushed them with flea combs post-bath, there were still live fleas on them (shouldn’t the neck stuff have killed them off?). So I put the back in their respective closed rooms (Charcoal in the basement, Ashes in a bathroom).
And we found a few fleas around the house that were not on the cats (translation: it’s all over).
I was super stressed afterward and Jake offered to give me a back massage (yes, please), but he realized I have ringworm on my back. How did I get that? On my back much less? It’s contagious, so no back massage. That’s a side note, but I include it to illustrate the most-things-that-can-go-wrong-has feeling.
Friday I prepped the house to be flea bombed by putting away everything on our kitchen counter, covering the beds with old sheets, putting away all of Jonas’ toys, packing us up to stay overnight at Jake’s Dad’s house, and setting up the animals to stay outside. My mom brought her Great Dane kennel over and we put the cats in the kennel on our front porch with food, water, and a litter box. We put Rollie Pollie, our hedgehog, in her cage in the back yard with a screen over the top to prevent wild animals from messing with her.
Jake set off several flea bombs after he got home from work while I waited outside with the kids and we set off with the kids to Abba and Grandpa Timmy’s. (It sort of feels like vacation here, honestly, which is awesome).
It started storming at around 2:00 A.M. Saturday morning, so Jake drove the 45 minutes back to our house in the middle of the night to rescue the hedgehog (she had scooted all of her cage floofies to one side so that she was standing on a little island away from the water) and do what he could for the cats (he put a tarp over the kennel, but they were still miserable).
The winds from the rain storm were hurricane-level, and the neighbor’s tree (which is taller than our house) was completely uprooted. Thank goodness it didn’t fall on anyone’s house, but it did fall on the power lines. So we were without power.
When we went back to the house Saturday (Jake’s parents watched the kids), there were still fleas and still no electricity. So we decided to attack full force. We bought more bombs, put flea powder on all the carpets and rugs, used a flea spray on the fabric furniture, sprayed the yard (and some of the neighbors’) with insecticide, and set the cats up with fresh litter and more food and water.
We went back yesterday (Sunday) to find that there was still no electricity, there were still fleas on the cats, and there still seemed to be fleas in the house, at least in the basement. We bombed the basement full force and gave the cats another flea bath/ combing. (They probably are planning to kill us in our sleep by now). Thanks goodness Jake’s parents have a deep freezer and extra refrigerator in their basement; we had to bring the entire contents of our fridge over here.
We’re about to go back again; hopefully there will be no critters there to great us. If we’re flea free, then we’ll get to cleaning. If Holly House is still the victim of a hostile flea take over, we’ll throw more money down the drain and bomb again, I suppose.