Well howdy there partner!
…Did ya like that there texan accent? See yet another reason I’m amazing, I can speak different dialects of english! Haha-nah I’m just playing, but really I am still amazing 😀 ANYWAY!
So I learned something new a few months back that was terrifying, interesting, kinda gross and pretty hilarious all at the same time. It all started with an itch…
As mentioned previously I have two fur babies. They are the sweetest little creatures on this green earth and they match mine and D’s personalities to a “t”. One day I realized they were a little more scratchy than usual but I paid no attention to it really, I just let it go. Until one day, what I thought was a freckle itched and *boop* it hopped right off my arm! It was a flea!!! I knew exactly where this ‘flea’ came from and I knew exactly how it entered my house. A few weeks prior to the ‘flea’ jumping off my arm my little boy fur baby got out of the house. D and I searched and searched for him but to no avail he was gone. I cried and cried and posted all over facebook and twitter telling people to keep their peepers open for my baby. Here comes the next morning. D goes out and takes a quick scan of the back yarn looking for him, nothing. I head out the door to go to work and *ziiiip* I almost trip over my sweet darling running into the house under my feet! He was cover in leaves and dirt…he obviously had a great night outside or didn’t like it at all, as a mother I chose to believe the latter. Anyway, that’s where the ‘flea’ came from, his little over night escapade outside. So now our motto is, “If you don’t want fleas, stay away from all those other flea-bag whores of animals outside our house!” Heartless parenting I know but we do what we can to keep our fur babies safe…has he ventured out since? Nope. Mission accomplished.
So now you realize we have fleas, great. Glad I brought that across as gently as possible. Now to the interesting part. We have decided that since we have found the problem we are going to try and rid the house of the pestilence by giving the fur babies baths. (The thought of this is bringing back a warm feeling of laughter already.) So I look up the best way to prepare them for their first bath, benadryl is the crowds favorite “dopping” agent. So D goes to the corner store and buys some baby benadryl.
Mission #1: Get benadryl in fur babies.
Sounds easy right? WRONG! Do you know that if an animal doesn’t like benadryl that they will not, let me say it again, will not swallow it?!?! Do you know what happens to benadryl if not swallowed? It makes your fur baby look like SANTA CLAUSE!!!….or a rabidly foaming from the mouth fur baby dressed as SANTA CLAUSE!!! Either way you imagine it, one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen! D said me chasing rabid fur santas around was pretty funny, then again who’s gonna disagree on that one?
Mission #2: Give Benadryl time to soak in.
Yep, this one kinda explains itself. Took a lot of time to get enough benadryl into their system to get any kind of effect but obviously I got enough. One fur baby was trying to jump onto the couch and ended up clinging for dear life about six inches up the back of the couch…With my head cocked to the side I watch in amazement at how she had to be scared for her life that she might fall to her death of the side of that cliff. Poor thing, I should help her. I did help her, I took her off that horrible cliff hanging sofa and placed her on the third step of our stairs. If six looked like a cliff hanger what’s three stairs gonna look like? Needless to say even my dopped up sweetie has a little commonsense, she fell over, which was kinda funny but not exactly the reaction I was wanting. Anyway.
Mission #3: Getting Fur babies in bath tub without losing one of our lives.
If there was anything we feared most, it was the reaction of our fur babies to their first bath. It was either gonna be a love hate relationship or D and I might lose and eye or possibly our lives…so we prayed.
Fur baby numero uno gets brought in. We close the door behind us, having no idea how this was gonna end we didn’t want the other fur baby watching. We place what we thought was our calm sweet gentle fur baby into the water, *SHAZAM* INSANE FUR BABY personality arrives! She’s scrambling everywhere and this is when we kinda freak out….there’s blood EVERYWHERE! She’s seriously dripping blood from everywhere. I’m flipping out, D’s flipping out, She’s flipping out and none of us know what to do. She jumps out of the tub and is scrambling about, dripping blood at every pin turn she takes. We try to grab her while trying to keep ourselves from slipping on little blood puddles. So instead we just open the door and *ZOOM* she’s gone. D and I just look at eachother, we both look at the blood spattered bathroom and not a word was spoken. We seriously had no idea what just happened. Not a clue. We even wondered if we hurt her some how or if she was hurt before coming into contact with the water. We were baffled. So we kinda cleaned up preparing for round two with our more rambunctious fur baby.
Round two commences and believe it or not he’s pretty calm. Okay, if you describe calm as climbing the wall and letting you hold him there while you scrub him and pour warm water on him as calm, then yeah he was straight up relaxed! He was a breeze, to both of our surprise. Though we were still in semi shocked states from the prior blood bath. Maybe he was too, maybe all the screeching and squawking coming from behind the closed doors terrified him into submisison, who knows. Either way we were all kinda glad it was over when we dried him off.
Interesting facts…get ready to learn something new!
So after all the chaos and hoopla was over and done with. We all kinda collapsed in some kind of horrified, mission accomplished type of relaxation. That was until I became curious of why there was a literal blood bath in our recent past. So what do I do? Google of course! “Bleeding to death fur baby while trying to give flea bath” What I found make me squirm and squeak,
“BABE! This is sooooo gross!”
This certainly has his attention, “What?!”
“You. Won’t. Believe. What. I. Found. Out!”
Kind of cringing away he asks, “Do I wanna know?”
Of course I was planning on telling him whether he wanted to know or not, “Maybe not…” as I start to describe what occurred in our recent journey through bathdom, “So our sweet fur baby bled everywhere and I know why! IT WAS HER BLOOD!!!”
“Really? That’s what you came up with?” said as sarcastically and unamused as possible.
“Yes, but it didn’t come from her but it was hers.”
“Ooooookay, explain please.”
“Did you know that fleas poop, and when they do if it gets wet it re-coagulates back into blood?! SO IT WAS LITERALLY HER BLOOD! SHE WAS BLEEDING!!!”
Yeah he wasn’t nearly as amazed at this new found information as I was. He was kinda grossed out but found humor in my amazement. So he replies, “So we just washed our fur baby in the most nastiest bath ever? Blood and Poop…can we even claim we washed her? Do fleas die from being drowned in their own poop?….” His questions went on as I laughed.
His questions made it quite a hilarious ending to what was a theatrical evening.
Have we bathed our babies since the night of the poopy blood bath you ask? Well yes we have but this time it wasn’t nearly as amusing as chasing rabid santas and looking like someone got zombie murdered in our bathroom. The drama was kept to a minimum thanks to a vet giving us tranquilizers…granted getting to swallow them was interesting but that’s for another day.
Well…as usual keep laughing because if you don’t laugh I will certainly laugh at you.
Stay hungry baby birds.