Sunflower Blog

Fleas on the Dogs and Cats

After weeks of hot weather, and ignoring the aroma of dogs coming in from the yard, I decided it was time for the soap and water treatment.

I spied fleas on both of the dogs yesterday. They are easier to find on the blonde Lab than they are on the predominately-black Shepherd. I have a sad black animal story, sad and true. If it passes important information to the reader, I’ll feel better for my shortcomings.

One summer, many moons ago, I resided in an apartment complex by a creek, with a long haired totally black cat named “Salem.” She was so beautiful. I had her shaved for summer, leaving the mane and tail hair long. Longhaired cats can drive themselves crazy grooming. She loved to jump from the second floor balcony and wander in the brush with the critters around the creek. I had raccoons in my apartment, scavenging leftover peanuts one night. That's another story.

I was working as a sales clerk in a pet store at the time, and was submerged in animal life 24 hours a day. As "Salem's" hair grew out during the heat of summer, I noted she was scratching a lot. All the animals I saw were scratching. I didn't think of investigating more thoroughly. I figured it was just part of the season.

"Salem" began hanging out in corners, behind furniture, where I couldn't reach her. I watched from across the room all summer. Eventually, “Salem” stopped eating, and was limp as a noodle when I did pick her up. I called the vet.

It's difficult when you live so close to your income that you don't have the $40 to $70 bucks that a trip to the vet usually costs. Vets have the extensive training of a medical doctor, and all sorts of tests for diagnosis. However, when the vet uses his expertise to help a pet, the pet's owner can't help but be shocked by the expense. X-rays cost money. bags of lactated ringers, administered IV with the line running across a bowl of ice to cool it, was a very expensive option that might not bring "Salem" around.

As memory serves, around $250 was the least expensive option for treating "Salem's" lingering state. Actually, putting her to sleep was the least expensive option, and the one I took. It's not a lack of caring, it's a lack of money. Society and veterinarians have considerable leeway as to when an injection to end a life it the thing to do. There’s a mixture of money, ethics, and practicality involved.

"Salem" was too far gone when I got her to the vet. That was not the doctor's exact words. It was more like "This animal is being eaten alive by fleas." He pointed to the fleas, excrement, and bloody matter he pulled from the comb he had used on “Salem.”

I was aghast. My memory moves in a slow motion haze after that. My mom and stepfather had gone with me to the veterinary clinic. I was glad to have their moral support. I attribute my negligence to a bipolar symptom that has to do with my concept of the passage of time. I can't recollect fully the last time I did certain things. I guess that's another story too.

I had not fully brushed, and combed “Salem” with a flea comb, since she had been shaved in spring. The hair grew in, but I never brushed her right, paying attention to her skin condition. I know I picked her up and held her some, but I didn’t see the fleas in the black hair.

It’s difficult to see fleas on black hair, and dark skin in some cases. After the passing of “Salem,” and noticing dark areas of dried blood on the carpet where she had laid, I swore not to get another black cat. I wouldn't let myself have a dark colored animal, because my lack of care had caused one to die. I'll never get over the guilt of "Salem's" passing with the fleas.

My two cats are white and gray. My Lab/Shepher mix, named "Big Bad John," is an 85 pound blonde. "Shadow" is a German Shepherd I picked out from the litter. She was six months old when I got her.

Two of my friends went with me to the house with the two full blooded German Shepherd parents, and their puppies for sale that September. The parents names were "Lucy" and "Ricky," with some more official name on their American Kennel Club papers. The entire litter lived in "Lucy's" fist birthing of fourteen puppies. There must have been a lot of competition for dinner. Only three males and two females remained with their parents. One , the owner pointed out, was reserved by a police officer, to take in to police dog school. The man had played with the dogs. They could fetch, and he had worked to know each individual dog's personality.

I selected a female, as I already had "Big Bad John." I wanted a female, and I wanted to have puppies. "John" was already fixed, but I invisioned lots of puppies in my future. Since she didn't answer to "Isla" (the German character in Casablanca"), she came to be known as "Shadow," because that's what she always is to "John."

"Shadow" also indicates that there's a good deal of black fur on her. Only her cheeks, chest and the underside of her tail is brown, tan, or white. She's mostly black.

I saw a flea on "Big Bad John's" muzzle last night. When I looked on "Shadow's" belly, there crawled one flea. Today I ordered "advanticks" online, so within a few days, the majic of modern medicine will zap all the fleas off their big bodies.

"John" loved his patio bath this afternoon, once he got wet. The bigger one is drying. I treat "Shadow" like such a frail little princess that when she whines a hurt sound, I immediatly stop what I'm going. She whined, and paced at the edge of the leash, then she wriggled out of her collar, twice. So I'm taking a break now. She will be clean before the sun goes down.

Last summer, I remember giving her a bath in the tub--with me in the tub holding her. Seems like she enjoyed it, once she got over experiencing wet.

So, shampoo the furry,
Suds up the sleek,
Mama's gonna wash you
So you might as well be meek.