I need a long weekend
So Andrew and I returned from our big wedding site search last Sunday. When we got home in the late evening our downstairs tenant Alison said she'd had a couple flea bites and wanted us to take care of it.
So, to make a long story short...about $300, tons of work, dozens of cat baths and clouds of pesticides later we are pretty sure that the fleas are gone. The bummer is that Andrew and I were working on this basically every night this week. Vacuuming, bathing the cats, treating the house and so forth.
In fact we even worked on it on the night of his birthday this week, though we were able to get out and go to Buca at 10 pm. So that was nice. But my whole house has been sprayed or sprinkled with poison and all the cats have been bathed by us (inexpertly at best) at least three times and finally we called in the groomer.
I found Julie the Groomer, who lives in North Minneapolis. She gave me a bunch of good advice for free over the phone about how to get rid of the fleas in the apartment (Andrew had found a bunch of stuff online which we learned used to work, but the fleas developed a resistance to it). She let us know that the fleabomb approach is pretty useless and a huge mess, so we avoided that. Also, when she answered the door as I dropped off the kitties, she was wearing a leopard print smock...and nothing else. Maybe she just wanted to avoid gettting fleas and bathwater all over her clothes.
Or she's a nudist groomer.
Turns out, Andrew's Chartreux have such a dense coat of fur that we had not even really touched the fleas, even after bathing them every night five nights in a row. So we sent them to Julie and they came back looking like kitty models.
OK, now my Italian Rage Girl moment...everyone is pretty sure that the fleaas are the remnants of Brenda (Evil Former Tenant) and her dog walking service that she had going without permission from the old landlord.
RAGE!!!
So, to make a long story short...about $300, tons of work, dozens of cat baths and clouds of pesticides later we are pretty sure that the fleas are gone. The bummer is that Andrew and I were working on this basically every night this week. Vacuuming, bathing the cats, treating the house and so forth.
In fact we even worked on it on the night of his birthday this week, though we were able to get out and go to Buca at 10 pm. So that was nice. But my whole house has been sprayed or sprinkled with poison and all the cats have been bathed by us (inexpertly at best) at least three times and finally we called in the groomer.
I found Julie the Groomer, who lives in North Minneapolis. She gave me a bunch of good advice for free over the phone about how to get rid of the fleas in the apartment (Andrew had found a bunch of stuff online which we learned used to work, but the fleas developed a resistance to it). She let us know that the fleabomb approach is pretty useless and a huge mess, so we avoided that. Also, when she answered the door as I dropped off the kitties, she was wearing a leopard print smock...and nothing else. Maybe she just wanted to avoid gettting fleas and bathwater all over her clothes.
Or she's a nudist groomer.
Turns out, Andrew's Chartreux have such a dense coat of fur that we had not even really touched the fleas, even after bathing them every night five nights in a row. So we sent them to Julie and they came back looking like kitty models.
OK, now my Italian Rage Girl moment...everyone is pretty sure that the fleaas are the remnants of Brenda (Evil Former Tenant) and her dog walking service that she had going without permission from the old landlord.
RAGE!!!
posted by Hazel Stone at 11:26 AM
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