Apparently we have pet fleas and didn't even know it. Lots of them. Okay, I really did know about the fleas, I just didn't know the "lots" part.
Yesterday I finally felt guilty about my cat pulling his hair out (allergic to flea bites) and my dog panting from her desperate attempts to find the fleas above her tail. The dog was stinky, had a red rash, and had chewed the hair off the top of her tail. I applied flea insecticide to both animals. The cat's worked, the dog's didn't. While the 11yo read her Latin lesson to me this morning, I picked fleas off the dog. The infestation was worse than I had imagined. Guilt, guilt, guilt!
My guilt bought the dog a trip to the groomer. I know, it's cheaper to wash the dog at home, but there are some things I'm not willing to do. One thing people don't tell you when trying to share their cute little puppies with you is that dogs occasionally need help emptying their anal glands. That my friends, is one of the perks of taking your dog to the groomer. You do not have to know about or have to deal with anal glands.
Thirty-six dollars and two hours later, I picked up my dog minus the musky odor. But that isn't the worst part. Nope, thirty-six dollars isn't so bad. What really hurts is the flea control. Three tiny vials of insecticide is going to cost you $60. Yep, twenty dollars a month. Ouch! Our total is now slightly over $100.
And there's more. Did I tell you that while the dog was in town being groomed that the cat attempted to puke on MY side of the bed?
Pets, companionship, man's best friend, fleas, worms, cleaning up warm cat puke....hmmm....I don't know. What were we thinking?
I noticed a pattern a few years ago. I always have a crash in February. I mean CRASH. Some of the worst depression I have ever experienced has happened in February. Big, bad, scary!
Is this a self-fulfilling prophecy? Honestly, I've wondered that myself. Every year I convince myself that it is just a coincidence. Besides, who can be depressed in Oregon during February? This is one of the sunniest winter months. In fact, last year when I made it to the end of the month and nothing had happened, I was sure that somehow I had made up this whole thing. And then, BAM, I felt like a zombie. I had to think about getting up off the couch. I had to force myself to move. I had to think about each step forward.
I joked with my sister that maybe I had some plant gene in body and that my body was reacting to the coming of spring. I know what you're thinking - completely fruity and off the wall.
Fast forward to this year. For a week the frogs have been serenading us at night and now I see that the tulips are already 4-5 inches tall. And me? Yesterday I was so agitated that my skin felt charged. I had this feeling that if the 7yo touched me I might literally explode (her incessant chattering was having the same effect). Before the evening was over I had experienced an "ugly cry."
This morning when I let the dog outside, I saw the tulips and thought, "Yep, I'm a plant."