There were three dead bodies in bed…
And who knows how many more…
Decomposing in the hallway.
A few lines from a W.I.P.?
No…
A few fleas from W.T.H.…
(What The Hell!)
“Sweetie has fleas,” the vet said to me yesterday.
“Fleas? It’s winter,” I said, shocked.
“Do you have any other animals?”
“No, just Sweetie.”
Oh, don’t give me that ‘bad, bad owner' look.
“Is she an outside cat?”
“No…well, yes, but there’s only a cement patio out back.”
Her eyes squinted. Doubting me?
“I’ll put Frontline on her now, but there’re probably fleas in your carpeting.”
“Will I have to bomb my apartment?” I asked.
Noooooo! I don’t want to evacuate!
“No, The fleas on her now will be dead in 12 hours.”
“Phew.”
“”But it will take 3 weeks for all the generations of fleas to die.”
“Oh?”
“The new ones won’t be able to stay on her.”
“Will they hop on me? She sleeps in my bed.”
I broke out itching everywhere.
“No, you’re thinking of lice and crabs. A flea’s host is furry animals.”
“Phew.”
However, that could describe my unshaved legs at times.
“Just keep vacuuming.”
“Just keep vacuuming.”
She meant that there’ll be dead flea bodies…
In my carpeting for 3 weeks.
Eeuuww!
Now I want to evacuate my apartment…
The only good news about W.T.H…
Is that my bedroom and office…
Have hardwood flooring…
Which means I won’t want to be downstairs…
In my carpeted living room…
Doing butt time on the couch in front of the TV…
Surrounded by fleas...
But rather…
But rather…
I’ll spend all my waking hours…
Upstairs in my office…
Doing butt time…
Working on my W.I.P.
Always, Em-Musing
