Ellington

The past three weeks of my life have been one long personal jihad against the fleas currently residing in my house. I call it a "jihad" because the fleas have progressed to the point where they are affecting my mental health: It's me or them.

I've discovered there is no possible way for me and one single flea to live peaceably in the same environment. The fleas are bad, dirty and, most importantly, seem to believe that my blood is something that they rightfully own. They do not. And before I will let them continue feeding off the very thing that keeps me alive, I. Will. Kill. Them. All.

In the past three weeks I've learned all there is to know about the life cycle of the common cat flea. In fact, in the past 72 hours alone I've spoken to three other sane adult people and at least mentioned something about the life cycle of the common cat flea. (Scientific name: Ctenocephalides felis [Bouché])

The flea has a four-stage life cycle: annoying, really annoying, completely annoying and a**hole. After much Internet research and lots of flea "advisers," I learned that one can only kill three of the life stages at one time. This four-stage life cycle usually calls for multiple flea treatments and several personal cases of prolific cursing, gnashing of teeth and just plain bad behavior.

I first attempted to go about killing the fleas with natural means. My mother believes the word "organic" precedes anything worthy of being purchased. I also believe in using homeopathic and natural remedies when at all possible. First, I aggressively sprayed orange citrus spray and sprinkled lavender oil around my house. I purchased concentrated mint oils and coated the baseboards. I vacuumed and wiped. I then declared major combat operations over.

But the fleas kept coming. It was only after three weeks of walking around looking like my legs and ankles suffered from a rash that I finally succumbed to industrial solutions. I realized that the only thing that was going to be beneficial in this situation was probably going to come with a skull-and-cross-bones warning and require special facial masks. At this point, I didn't care. The itching was beginning to get to me. "Hell," I thought, "I'll spray the house with DDT if these things will go away and never come back. I don't particularly like my internal organs anyway. They are usually full of gas and causing at least one type of cramp."

In the past three weeks, I have bombed, washed, mopped, bleached, treated and, in general, hated these devil-possessed fleas, and they still refuse to die. Don't get me wrong, I've seen a significant reduction in their numbers. I've even counted the dead fleas on the bottom of the Swiffer and promised the same fate to their children. But in the past few days—after the fourth treatment in three weeks and the sixth mopping—I've noticed a growing insurgency amongst their ranks. This bothers me. In fact, my uncontrollable reaction to seeing even one single flea is beginning to scare me.

One night, after spraying the house the fifth time, I found myself staring closely at the hardwood floors in the living room. If I looked carefully enough, I was able to see fleas convulsing due to permethrin toxicity. I loved it; I rejoiced in it. Sometimes I pointed my fingers at them and screamed, "Die, die, die!" while I cackled in an evil voice. I then drank scotch and smoked cigars and felt very white and male.

It has stopped being about simply ridding the house of fleas and is now about me versus them. It is about human superiority and ingenuity. It is about me showing them I will not be taken down without a fight. It is a mission. And, let me tell you, I'll bomb every single one of those blood-sucking cusses off this God-forsaken rock called Earth—including myself—before I let another flea live to suck blood one more day.

These fleas will not get the best of me. These fleas will surrender and acknowledge my exceptional skills and power. All of this blood is mine, and I plan on needing it for quite a while. I haven't figured out how to live without blood, and I don't plan on making alternate arrangements. I will fight for what is mine even if it kills us all. I will take on a personal "flea-had."

This "flea-had" will last as long as I need it to. This "flea-had" will last until they all succumb to my superior flea-bombing prowess. This "flea-had" will last until you and I are finally safe from all things itchy, scratchy, uncomfortable and impossibly "flea-ish" in this world. I will win this war—one day.

Previous Comments

ID

75521

Comment

Flea-had. ROTFL!

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2007-11-07T20:36:02-06:00

ID

75522

Comment

i got itchy just reading your story. i've experienced exactly what you're going through several times before. after one of my cats died the house was infested beyond belief. it was so bad that even when my family took a 2 week vacation with out a single animal in the house, they were still there when we came back, as strong as ever.

Author

katrina_h

Date

2007-11-08T09:47:16-06:00

ID

75523

Comment

Katrina-unfortunately I can tell you EXACTLY why they didn't die. See, in that four stage life cycle I mentioned, the third one is the "pupae" stage and it CANNOT BE KILLED. It is impervious to pesticides. So, you can bomb and kill all the live fleas and eggs, but you must CLEAN to get rid of the pupae. They have to be vacuumed or washed away. If they are in that stage, and you leave, they won't come out of the pupae. They can stay in there for up to TWO YEARS without feeding until they deem the environment to be "flea" friendly (i.e. fresh blood is around). They are attracted to vibrations and light...which is why you can leave a house...come back two weeks later and be COVERED in new fleas. They sat around and waiting until they heard you walkiing around. I'm telling you....I know WAY too much about fleas. :) L.W. -Thanks for laughing!! I'm trying to get my funny back as best as I can.

Author

Lori G

Date

2007-11-08T14:11:06-06:00

ID

75524

Comment

A suggestion - nematodes in your yard. They'll eat the flea eggs and larvae and stick around a long time. Combine that with a bug bomb or two under the house and it might just help you get rid of the little devils.

Author

Pilgrim

Date

2007-11-13T22:29:03-06:00