I’ll start with this: Archie has fleas.
Yes, our sweet baby boy (who sleeps right on my pillow every night) has fleas. Yesterday he was curled up on my lap getting a belly rub when suddenly I noticed a teeny, crawly, hoppy little thing. Oh, no. How could this happen? He was due for his flea/tick stuff on the 13th. As my mom pointed out, you have to apply it every 4 weeks, not on the same day each month. Parenting fail.
Now naturally, I freaked out. Were the in the carpets? Were they in my hair? And the whole time I was overwhelmed with guilt. How could we be so irresponsible? My sweet baby didn’t do anything wrong! Now we’ve washed nearly everything in our house in hot water and vacuumed our tiny apartment with wall-to-wall carpeting about 12 times. Google hasn’t helped calm my fears. Everything I’ve found sounds so worst case scenario. I could wind up with a flea infestation for up to three months? Well shit.
What breaks my heart the most is that after we applied his flea/tick medicine, Archie had to sleep in his crate all by his lonesome last night. It was cold and it was weird to be without his furry butt all cozy in our bed. This morning he looked at me with those eyes like I was the worst dog mother in the world. Like I didn’t love him enough.
If you need me, I’ll just be over here vacuuming and re-vacuuming and then feeling guilty again.