Look at comb with every comb and dunk into soapy water if there is a flea. Otherwise, rake comb onto napkin to remove eggs & dried blood specs (what larvae feed on) EVERY time you pull comb through fur. This way you aren’t redepositing those back onto cat.
I don’t think I see well enough to use a flea comb. The lighting is very dim in this house, in the dead of a Pacific Northwest winter especially. I got out the one SAD lamp I own but that makes a glare. I combed Henry all over the fucking place after I took the cone off for a bit this morning, just to let him eat and groom. I didn’t find one. How is following around my cat all day with a flea comb gonna work if I can’t fucking see the fucking fleas? Charlie found four yesterday, as he was showing me how to do this task I am ill equipped for.
I’m very tired. When I took my glasses off to install contacts I could confirm I look like shit. He slept next to me but we were both anxious, and he kept turning around to center the cone over my face so he could kiss me for petting, the comfort of touch. He thinks he’s being punished, no doubt.
Three skin conditions in eleven months!
He never had one before either, even though I walked him outside in Portland all spring and summer when I lived downtown and didn’t apply that last dose of Frontline I’d had. (I bought a 3-pack in NYC after I was warned about the dangers of flea infestation, and had applied it twice. Then I stopped walking him for the winter, and moved in the early spring.) I can’t believe this one got so bad before I noticed, but he’s got very thick fur. Now that there’s salve on it, you can see the wounds. They’re about a finger’s width wide and run along his spine, about half the length. It’d be like having a hand’s width raw patch (half the length of your back) on a person. No wonder he’s been less playful than usual!
I finally noticed when we were snuggling in the bed, before dawn yesterday morning. I felt a rough patch and made a mental note to check when I got up. When I found the first spot, I was concerned. Then I saw it kept going and going and was horrified. I guess I’m going to have to make a point of checking his entire body at least every other day.
The big “if”
I didn’t get to working out yesterday because I was so preoccupied. Also my easel arrived and we mostly put it together. It’s too big for the ceiling level and the wheels were lost along the way. I’d need those. But then I’d also need: oil paints; more brushes, medium, solvent, a palette stand, a drop cloth, lighting, canvases etc. I’d need a few thousand dollars of supplies just to get going, in other words. And then I’m like, Why the fuck did I want this thing? Part of me is still glad I’ve got it, I guess, even though it may well just stand there unused. We’ll see. If I got any illustration income I could make it happen.
So the flea problem really took the excitement away from the easel. I didn’t get around to working out either. Hopefully I will today though I am REALLY FUCKING TIRED. I did change the sheets & threw them in the wash, and then I hung my three blankets outside on the snowy deck. Apparently the cold will kill any eggs or larvae & he did sleep next to me all night. (Quite often he’ll only join me on the pillows in the early morning, but he needs extra love with the confusion.)