After a week of anti-flea skirmishes, the Lizard Queen had had enough.
Before leaving work, I set off three anti-flea foggers in the house. After a lovely morning teaching (with my new neighbor Cupcake observing me teach) and a lunch with said Cupcake and her hubby, I returned home and waged full-on war against the fleas that have been biting the living crap outta me for the past few days.
Vacuuming, from top to bottom, EVERYTHING. I even killed our vacuum cleaner, so I had to buy a new one in order to finish vacuuming the entire house (including the upholstery). Laundering all linens, bedding, and any clothes just laying around. That’s a lot of laundry, from 5pm to now, 10:30pm (with one load in the dryer and the final load in the washer). The Hubby came home, and he got around to flea-shampooing our two cats around 9pm. He was alarmed by the amount of blood my cat’s flea bites were staining the bath water. I wasn’t, since Harold has thicker fur and she’s outside more often than Spot (the Hubby’s cat). I re-sprayed the entire house with two cans of Raid Flea Spray. That’s in addition to three cans of Raid applied earlier and copious amounts of diatomaceous earth (applied two days ago).
The cats already had new flea collars (put on them last week), and I have flea spray that’s safe to put on cats. But the infestation was still bad enough that the stuff listed in the above paragraph Just Had To Be Done. The Hubby even spread out beneficial nematodes in our front and backyards during a thunderstorm yesterday, for these critters are supposed to eat flea larvae in the soil.
Yes, it’s an all-out war, on many fronts, because this time I’ve been bitten EVERYWHERE on my body. With my skin being slow-to-heal anyways, with my rather ridiculous skin allergy to insect bites (everything tends to blister on me, including mosquito and flea bites), and with my already irrational pregnancy moods making me feel that I’m butt-ugly these days, I’ve just had enough.
So, yes, war against the fleas. And have I been doing my grading, like a good little English teacher, this evening?
But maybe, tomorrow morning, I won’t wake up with new flea bites.