I woke up at 12:26 AM to Elsie throwing up. She sounds like she’s throwing up most nights, and usually nothing comes up, so I wasn’t worried. Back to sleep.
3:30 AM. Cat wants food. Realized pump site fell out. Suddenly, it hit me. Elsie P’s been grooming a lot. And scratching. I picked her up aaaaand… fleas.
So the guy next door who is, uh, how to say it nicely?, he’s… just not all there… well, he puts his cat out the window (we’re ground level) on a leash. And I keep saying we’d get fleas. People kept saying oh, no, no, no. Well, guess what?
Somewhere in the process of frantically walking around and fussing over Elsie, I saw the throw up. It looked like a human threw up. Poor baby. And she’s all itchy.
I pulled all the bedding, including my own, all the throw rugs, and bagged them up. I vacuumed everything to death (yes, at 4 AM), including the couch. There is flea dirt EVERYWHERE. Elsie’s boxes and favorite blankets were covered. I keep finding it on me, too. Ew.
Anyway, mostly I’m worried about Elsie being uncomfortable. And she’s going to need a bath, and you know how she feels about baths, right? Human as she may be, she is, after all, a cat who hates water.
I woke Mom up at 2 AM her time. We’re going to have to call the vet (he might want to put her on flea stuff, which is expensive, I think), go to the Petsmart and get a flea comb and flea shampoo, take Elsie and I and all our stuff to Mom’s, have one of the guys (Mom’s guys at work) come and exterminate the place, and wait for it to dry till we can come back. Now, I’ll be okay at Mom’s, but Elsie hasn’t been there in almost a year.
Would you mind a prayer for Elsie P? Poor old girl can’t get a break.