No, the fleas did not drain us all dry as we slept. Actually, the fleas are (knocks wood) pretty much under control, I think. I haven't seen any in a couple of days, and today pest control guy came in and sprayed, while the cats went to the
vet for babysitting and flea inspections, and Murphy and I took a lovely drive until it was safe to return to the house.
Taking a drive - that's one of those old fashioned things that nobody does anymore, not with gas prices as they are. I never do it, but these were special circumstances. I started out planning a quick jaunt, just drive an area I hadn't bothered to go through in 20 years, to see how things had changed. Then I just started drifting. I knew the names of the roads, but not how they connected with each other or where I was going. It was a perfect day - high 60s, cloudless skies - and it was so relaxing to drive these back roads with scattered foliage growers and small farmettes with a couple of horses grazing in the front yard. I rolled the windows down so Murphy could sniff new sniffs, and he enjoyed it as much as I did. It would have been perfect if we'd set out with a full tank of gas, but I hadn't intended to wander so far, and had set out with a quarter of tank. As the needle dropped alarmingly low, I became aware that there's a real shortage of gas stations out that way. Extreme shortage, actually. Like, none.
I got completely twisted around, thought I was heading for a main highway and in a different direction, but popped out on a different yet vaguely familiar road not far from where I'd began. I made it to a gas station before the needle dropped below E.
By then it was safe to take Murphy back to the house, and I made a solo trip for an oil change and then to the supermarket before fetching the cats. Oddly, the vet did not find that the cats were infested, which baffles me because there was plenty of flea dirt evidence in places they frequented (and which the dog does not) to indicate that they were walking festivals of fleas. Now, no fleas.
I think the magic bullet was Capstar. I got some from the vet late last week. I had never heard of it, or if I had, I didn't realize what it did. If I had, my poor Murphy would not have suffered as he did for TWO WEEKS. Capstar is a tiny pill that you can give to dogs and cats. It kills fleas, and kills them fast - within 24 hours. And, though I looked, I found nothing about risks or side effects. It worked incredibly well, and I will always have some on hand. Capstar has replaced the old fashioned flea dip - now, even the vet's office gives the animal a pill, lets it work its magic, and follows up with a bath.
As I fetched the cats from the vet this afternoon (they were declared healthy and very sweet), another customer was at the counter, discussing the flea invasion and picking up Capstar. Oh, and the funniest of all - the very nice pest control guy said that he lives not too far away, and his OWN dogs (Chihuahuas - don't you love it when good ole boys go against stereotypes?) had the same problem. You know it's a Flea Invasion when the bug guy is dealing with it at his own house.
Anyway, it appears that peace has returned to the Bossy Doghouse, the itching and scratching has been replaced with snoring, and tonight and tomorrow night we are supposed to get a hard freeze, which should take care of whatever is in the environment. I think this concludes the Flea Saga, for now.
I am totally kicking myself for not taking tomorrow off. I will have my DVR set to record, and will head for the TV in the break room for the swearing-in ceremony.
Sorry I haven't been very bloggy lately; no particular reason, just busy. Busy working, busy battling fleas, and busy thinking. That last one is exhausting - I try to avoid it whenever possible. There are many questions, but no answers.