Please, No Mo Fleas!

There is nothing like sitting on the couch, drinking a soda, watching LOVE IT OR LIST IT while your kids sleep in their beds and your dog sleeps at your feet.  There is also nothing like reaching down to pat your dog while sitting on the couch, drinking a soda, while watching LOVE IT OR LIST IT only to realize she is infested with fleas!  I am not using the word "INFESTED" lightly...I am being very literal.  Here is how the last few days has played out for me...

I am enjoying a little down time while my 4 kids are all napping...BLISS.  I got my soda, my M&M's, my feet are up, LOVE IT OR LIST IT is all I can see, and my sweet dog, Gidget is restlessly sleeping at my feet.  I was starting to get frustrated with her.  She was making a lot of noise and kept getting up and slamming back down to the floor making the couch shake...I nearly spilled my soda mid drink multiple times...I don't like the thought of cleaning up a spill when I am off duty, so I yell at the dog.  She looks at me, panting.  I tell her to be quiet because I can't hear what the designers are saying.  She plops back down, shaking the couch again.  I almost spill again.  I look at her.  She looks back at me panting.  I purse my lips and wrinkle my brow as I stare at her...something was off.  She looked miserable.  Is she sick?  Did she eat something in the yard?  Is it old age?  I sigh, and then smile at her...I tell her she is a good girl.  She looks at me, panting.  I reach down to scratch her tummy as she is laying on the floor...that's when I saw the problem.  A LEGION OF FLEAS.  EVERYWHERE.  Feasting on my poor old dog who has a very pronounced under bite making it impossible for her to bite them away.  Never in my life as a dog owner have I ever had to deal with fleas! This was a first, so as "firsts" go, I over-reacted.  I swore.  I almost spilled my drink as I did a Ninja roll off the couch to get a better look.  I combed my hands through her hair against the grain to see what was lurking in her undercoat.  I counted 10 fleas right off.  I swore.  I squinted.  I made a "I'm disgusted" face.  I swore again.  My mind went to the extreme, all I could think of was shaving the dog...I got up and ran into the garage frantically looking for the buzzers (the ones I use to cut my husbands hair...shhhh, don't tell him).  I found them quickly and raced back to my panting dog, threw her over on to her back and began shaving her stomach...she loved it.  She laid there, spread eagle as I shaved off mounds of flea infested hair.   She started breathing easier with each pass of the buzzers...I did a very proficient buzz job...OK,  I'm lying, it was a hack job.  My hands were shaking, I was sweating, I didn't know what I was doing, so I just kept shaving randomly...I couldn't quite get it even, she looked lopsided, so I just kept shaving...POOR GIG.  About halfway through the frantic shave job, my kids were all up from their naps.  The baby woke up first.  Flea hair was stuck to my skin as I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time to bring the baby down to watch the freak show.  I put her in her bouncy seat.  She was giggling and laughing and kicking her legs wildly as she watched me roll the dog around on the floor like a joint trying to find the next place to shave.  Sedric and Rafe were up next and instantly began a play by play commentary every time Gidget would scratch at a flea.  They started using their "bad words" to scold the fleas.  Calling them poopy heads, stupid heads, stinky bottoms...they did it with such sincere concern for the dog I decided to pretend I didn't hear their toddler cursing.  Finally, Peniel was up.  She came down sleepy eyed dragging her feet...she plopped down next to me sending flea hair up into my face, I yell at her to be more careful...that's when she finally woke up and saw what was going on.  She assessed the mess she sat down in and made the same "I'm disgusted" face I had made 20 minutes earlier.  I told her what was going on...she did a high pitch sympathy, "OH GIG!!"  and patted her head...and almost in the same breath asked me, "so if she dies from this, can we get a cat?"  SPEECHLESS...Not shocked (Peniel desperately wants a cat), just speechless.  Poor Gig indeed!  Long story short, I buzzed off about 50 fleas and a lot of hair that didn't need to be cut...and she was still getting bit...after a round of Advantix, a professional exterminator over to the house to flea bomb, we are now penniless...and flea free...I HOPE.

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Good Girl Gidget

Our dog has a death wish...she loves our kids so much, she would allow them to torment and torture her all day without harming them.  I don't know how she does it...They pull her tail:  she licks them.  They ride her like Tonto:  she licks them.  They pretend to do dental work on her mouth:  she licks them.  They jump on her while she is chasing rabbits in her sleep:  she licks them.  They explore her nose with a flashlight:  She sneezes on them, THEN licks them...one would think that she would try and avoid the children with all that mishandling, but she doesn't, she purposely positions herself where ever they are, Every.  Single.  Day.  If you were to come to our house, Gidget would be first to greet you, she can't resist new people...visitors are her favorite, especially kid visitors.   Its pathetic when a kid from a non-dog home comes over and is terrified of the slightly over weight, aging kind eyed dog...she looks at them...they scream...she tries to sniff them, they scream.  She wags her tail to reassure them, they scream...that's when she looks at me with eyes that seem to say, "was I bad?"  That's when I look at her, pat her head reassuringly and say, "Good Girl Gidget."  That's when she takes a deep sigh and collapses at my feet and goes dormant while our scared visitors play with her kids.  It's the only time she is separated from her kids...and it depresses her.  The moment our visitors leave, she gets up and finds her children and licks them.  Some days I think she parents my children better than I do.  She has more patience than I do for the loud thud of toys hitting the floor every other second, the constant running laps around the kitchen, jumping off the furniture, spilled food, horrible smells, whining, complaining and crying...lately, all the commotion of moving and having a 2 year old and a 3 year old at odds with each other has me unnerved and short tempered and addicted to the word "NO"...but not Gidget...she sits in the middle of all the raucous, looking at them like they are the sweetest little darlings, even when Sed is using his plastic hockey stick to beat his sister, and Rafe is breaking the sound barrier with her banshie shriek.  Maybe I should just lick my children too?  Gross.  I don't know how she does it...such unconditional, patient love...sometimes outshining the love of a devoted mother...that's when I look at her, pat her head and say, "Good Girl Gidget."
 Parenting small children is a lot of un-glorified work.  It takes a lot of effort and time to teach our kids the things that give roots to their character and stability to their emotions...lots of times I fail to set a good example in this area, I mean, completely fail.  Sometimes I cry out of complete frustration and exhaustion and go into my room to cry unnoticed...the kids continue to play and fight as I slink away, defeated.  Gidget notices.  Moments after sitting down in my room, I hear her toes clicking on the floors as she walks down toward my room.  She pushes the door open with her nose and peers in...she walks over to me and looks at me...that's when she puts her head reassuringly in my lap, nudging my stomach.  I bury my face in her furry neck letting my tears slide down the back of her ears.  She stands there stationary waiting for me to recover...I do, I always do, because I love my life, I love my kids, I love this very challenging season of raising small children...so I wipe my eyes and stand up...that's when I pat her head reassuringly and say, "Good Girl Gidget" and we walk back down the hall toward the children together.  

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