Cats have a funny way of welcoming you back into their lives and their environment. They adorn you with their lingering pong smells, bestow upon you the gift of shed fur and above all else share with your their best of friends-- the flea.
Ah yes, the majestic flea. Here today, bringing the family tomorrow. It travels through your trousers, through your vest and into your head peeking every now and again to check for more fertile breeding ground. I sprayed myself with enough citronelle to deter an entire ark of mosquito species but that irrational reckless flea and the idea of an itch.. well that never sprays away easy.
In fact I sincerely feel like spraying every inch of my habitat but since I also plan to sleep there I reckon a nose is more precious than the presence of a few strategically detonated red spots here and there. Strategic in that they will ofcourse reflect my constellation. Do not underestimate the artistic flair and ingenuity of fleas. They get around.
Thing is, even if I get rid of the fleas, the cat's still around. And when it starts to purr and growl and curl up by my feet well.. its a free blanket. And since when do free blankets come free of fleas?
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