That time my indoor cat got fleas, and I was diagnosed with OCD, and I bought a Dyson vacuum, and officially became an adult.
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Then the vet tech came back into the room to administer the treatment and sitting right there on Aslan's sneaky little fur-covered neck was a flea. "Oh, there's one!" the vet tech exclaimed gleefully. Though I'm pretty sure the glee was just in my head.
“FUCK,” I texted Jeff. “She has fleas.”
“FUCK,” he replied.
And so it began, The Frantic Fantastic Flea Fiasco of 2018™
I hesitated to write this post because frankly, I'm a bit embarrassed, but I find myself on the constant verge of either laughing or crying (or doing both at the same time) due to our current predicament, so I figured I'd do what I always do when I feel like my head is about to explode: Write.
So Hi. Hello. I’m here. I’m here and currently dealing with fleas. FLEAS! Fleas on our indoor cat, Aslan, who I naively assumed couldn’t get fleas because she’s an indoor cat. WRONG.