*****

The cats have fleas. They’ve never had fleas before, and I’m crabby as hell that they have them now. The tiny kitty we took in a while back brought them into the house. When we found her a home, we gave her a bath before turning her over to her new parents. That killed all of her fleas, and now she’s fine. Unfortunately, her flea legacy lives on in our house. Bleh.

I went to the vet to get some of that hardcore flea goop that’s supposed to be totally awesome. The vet is in a pet store, so while I waited for the people to get me the flea goop, I checked out the various flea killing carpet powders and sprays. Did you know those fucking flea bastards can live in the carpet for months, even after you’ve treated your pets? Disgusting. Now I not only have to dose the cats, but I also have to treat the entire fucking house and wash all the goddamn blankets the cats sleep on and every other goddamn thing that might possibly be harboring those stupid little bastard flea assholes and their stupid little bastard eggs. GAH. I just finished tearing my house up to treat every square inch of carpet in order to get rid of goddamn fucking carpet beetles. Is it too much to fucking ask that I go for a month without having to deal with some sort of bug infestation? IS IT REALLY?! I REALLY DON’T THINK THAT’S TOO MUCH TO ASK, I REALLY FUCKING DON’T. (On a side note…clothing moths, carpet beetles, fleas…You’d think I live in some sort of disgusting hovel covered in filth. I truly don’t, I swear to God. I mean, sure, things tend to get cluttered, and God knows I hate dusting and whatnot, but I’m not a goddamn animal, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like there’s rotting food and cat poop littering the house. I’M NOT A DISGUSTING PERSON. I DO NOT DESERVE AN INFESTATION OF BUGS, GODDAMNIT. IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR.)

At any rate, so I’m in the store, right, checking out all the flea powders, and I notice a bottle labeled “Cat Repellent.” Which of course makes me laugh, because I’m imagining some sort of Off-like stuff you spray on yourself to keep cats away. Like when you’re trying to read, and they’re all over you with their “Pet me! Feed me! Love me!” song and dance. Or you’re sitting at the computer, and they keep jumping up on the damn desk and walking across the keyboard. Spray-on cat repellent would be pretty freakin’ useful then, I tell you what. (And on another side note, why the fuck is it that cats only want love and affection when you’re busy doing something and haven’t a lap on which they can sprawl or a free hand to scratch them behind their ears? There are times when I desperately want to hug a kitty, and I can’t find one to save my life. There are times when I’m lying on the couch, wildly flailing my arms and waggling my fingers enticingly, making that “Pssspssspss” kitty-come-hither noise to attract one of the little fuckers so I can pet them, but they won’t come anywhere near me and sit just out of reach, staring at me and blinking in disdain. Would it kill them to let me pet them? Would it?! Fuckers.) So I take the bottle up to the counter where one of the vet people is filling my flea goop order.

“Is this like Off? You just sort of spray it on yourself to keep cats away from you? Like when they’re all clingy and annoying, and you just want them to leave you alone for a while?”
* blinkblink *
“Um, no, I don’t think—“
“And does it work on monkeys, too? Because I’m going to Costa Rica in June, and I hear they have a lot of monkeys down there, and monkey repellent would be pretty useful.”
“Well, no, it’s just for cats, but—“
“Oh. Well, do you carry the monkey stuff, too?”
“Um, no, we don’t, but—“
“And is this stuff waterproof? Because if there are a lot of cats on the beach, this stuff would be great. I mean, I hate when I’m at the beach surrounded by cats, and their fur gets all in my sunscreen. You know?”
“Um, sure, but I don’t think that’s what it’s for. I think it’s for keeping cats off, like, plants and stuff.”
“Oh. Well, do you have the other stuff?”
“Other stuff?”
“Yeah, you know, the stuff for keeping cats off of you?”
“Oh, um, no, but—“
“Oh well, that’s okay. I’ll just stop at another pet store on the way home.”

I went back to the flea powder aisle, sniggering madly. I know I shouldn’t have picked on her, but I was in a “mood,” and I really couldn’t help myself. She was just so very serious and earnest, bless her. I couldn’t resist messing with the poor, clueless dear.

I fiddled around the store for a while, waiting for them to fill my order. When they finally called my name, I made my way back to the counter. I wasn’t going to mess with the girl anymore, I truly wasn’t, but then, on the counter, I saw a pamphlet for pet laser surgery. The pamphlet itself wasn’t especially entertaining, but it listed a website on the back where you could find more information: www.petlasers.com. I thought, “Pet lasers!” and I had this vision of lasers installed on your pets’ heads, and the image made me laugh. I couldn’t help it. I had to mess with the girl again.

“These lasers, these are the ones you have installed on your pet’s head, right? Or attached to their collars maybe? Like for home security purposes?”
* blinkblink *
“What? Oh, um, no, they’re for—“
“Are they motion-sensing? Because I can’t think that would be very wise. What if you have multiple pets, and they start shooting each other whenever one of them walks by? Although, I suppose the alternative would be to let the pets control the lasers, but that doesn’t seem like a good idea either, especially if your pet is a cat. I don’t think I’d trust either of my cats’ judgment when it comes to deciding when to use the laser. I mean, what if the cat sees a spider on the wall or something and starts shooting at it? Or if they get distracted by a moth or dust in the air? They’d tear the house up with lasers, you know?”
“Uh—“
“And do they come in different sizes? For dogs or cats or maybe even tiny ones for hamsters? Although I’m guessing not, because hamster lasers wouldn’t be very useful, would they? Not if you keep hamsters in a cage, at any rate. And if you let them out to patrol the house, they’d just chew through everything, so that wouldn’t be good.”
“Uh—“
“Well, I guess I’ll just check out the website for more information. Is my order ready?”
“What? Oh! Yes! Yes it is!”

I think she was relieved both to finally have a question for which she had an answer and to be rid of me. I left the store with my flea goop, sniggering madly once again. I honestly don’t know what gets into me sometimes. I think it’s the clueless people who set me off, the well-meaning ones who are so very sincere and humorless. Not that the girl wasn’t very sweet, because she was, but she took me so seriously, not picking up on my jackassery at all. Had she laughed or smiled, or even blown me off rudely, shown some sign that she knew I was fucking with her, I would have stopped. But, bless her heart, she just kept trying to answer my increasingly ridiculous questions.

(And on yet another side note, how awesome would pet lasers be? I totally want a platoon of laser-equipped hamsters to do my bidding, my own little army of high-tech rodents. How sweet would that be, right? I would train them to be some sort of elite, secret-weapon type squadron of assassins. I mean, hamsters could sneak in places that no human could because they’re so teeny. And they’re so cute, with their chubby little cheeks and nubbin tails! No one would be able to resist their charm! I’d send my deceptively cute killers after a target, and the target would be all, “Well hello, you cute little thing!” and by the time the target discovers the laser, it will be too late! SHAZAAM! EAT MY TINY RODENT LASER OF DESTRUCTION, SUCKER! It would be awesome! Seriously, I am like some kind of military genius.)

last - next