So
yesterday we woke up and the dog had a bald patch right by his tail. I took him
to the vet and they found a solitary flea. (This is despite all the pets using
the vet approved flea combo treatment). It turns out that although the flea
liked our dog, our dog is allergic to flea bites. And because of this weird
weather we’ve been having, the traditional treatment or ‘Spot On’ is ineffective.
I left with my wallet considerably lighter, and him on antibiotics and a
massive tablet to get rid of the flea, plus an enormous house spray for all the
other friends that this flea may or may not have brought in. Before I left, the
vet asked me to bring in the cats so that she could check them over, and if
they also had little friends she would give me a tablet each for them.
‘Tablets?’
I said feebly – ‘Can we not just have the much stronger Spot On that you
recommended?’ I agreed on the proviso that
she would administer the tablets as I know what hissing scratching fighters
these fluffy balls of fur become, and she said confidently that she had a very
good success rate with the most stubborn of cats.
Today it
poured down. I drove back from work
through 8 rivers that had materialized on the roads over the course of 4
hours. Cars were aquaplaning, breakdown
vehicles were scattered throughout various points of my journey and several
times the whole car was submerged in splash backs from the puddles I was in, or
cars travelling in the other lane. Cars were abandoned in side streets where
rushing water hurtled against closed garage doors. My 4 x 4 inched slowly down
our unmade road, where even the potholes were submerged under a muddy stream.
I had lined
up G to help me with the cats, who fought, legs spatchcocked as they were
posted into their cat boxes which were popped into the car as they continued
mewling furiously at the tops of their voices. Suddenly there was an overwhelming
smell of cat poo – the boy cat had messed himself in distress. We carried the cat poo smelling box and
grumpy cats into the vets. Two
greyhounds shuddered dismally as we entered and huddled together looking at the
boy cat’s box in suspicion. A poodle jumped joyously at the girl cat’s box
until she spat at his eager face. This
was not going to be easy.
The vet
took the girl cat out of the box. She is
a lap cat, an absolute doll and the easier to handle of the pair. She was a
dead cert. ‘Ahhh’, cooed the vet, and reached for the tablet whilst telling G
to hold the cat firmly by the shoulders.
Two broken tablet feeders later, the vet and G stood there bleeding from
scratches, whilst Lap Cat hissed silently, mouth clamped firmly tight. Boy cat,
who is a very gentle natured sun lover, but doesn’t tolerate too much handling,
came out of his box which was speedily despatched to be cleaned up as she
attempted to check him over. He was
having none of it, the indignity of his situation was just too much. He sank his claws into her arm.
We went
home with the stronger Spot On which is applied to the back of their necks and kills
everything bug related. The vet agreed that
it was a much better idea after all.
Peace amongst the felines has resumed.
So now I am
seriously thinking of buying an Ark, where we and the animals can live in case
these floods get worse. But there’ll be
one creature in God’s world which won’t be on that boat.
I’ve got
enough spray to make them all flee…