I never thought it would be me. Or, more to the point, I never thought it would be my dog. But it is. Teddy Bean has fleas.
My little pup!
Why does it seem so embarrassing? So shameful? No one feels like they have to leave the groomer with a bag over their head if their dog is stinky, or muddy, or has a few mats. But fleas? I'm taking it personally.
So here's what happened. I had been wondering for a couple weeks now about these little poppy seed thingies I'd been finding in Bean's fur. I had even mentioned it to a few people. No one raised an eyebrow. And I remembered to mention the seeds to the groomer when I brought him in Monday morning. I told her I didn't know if he rolled in something, or maybe had some puppy dandruff, but I hoped she'd look for them and try to rinse them out with the shampoo.
He was heading to the tub when I left. Not long after I got to work came The Call. And The Shame.
I had forgotten to apply his September dose of whatever it's called, the flea stuff I get from our vet. And with nothing there to nab them, the fleas stepped right in. Never again.