Retire Today

My Dog Never Had Fleas

By Tamara Marie
In the last year, my life has changed drastically.

I was always the type of person who worked hard, played hard, made good money and paid my bills on time. I had finally gotten to a point in my life where instead of jobs picking me, I could pick the job. I had given up on my usual 9-5, sitting on my butt, office job and instead turned to catering and delivery. I worked as many hours as I wanted, made great money, and took time off when I wanted to play.

I lived in sunny Florida, so my back yard was the place most people go on vacation. I had a nice, clean, pest-free home and my big, black Lab / Rott dog and I spent many relaxing hours at the beach each week. My dog, Bear, didn’t like the water much, but as long as he got that salt water dip at least once a week, he never had a flea problem.

Then the economy changed. My employer wasn’t getting as many orders as usual and so didn’t have as many assignments for me. My work load went down, and so did my cash flow. Due to other personal issues (a nasty divorce), I’d lost most of my savings. Not to the ex – but to the lawyers! Next, my truck decided to stop working and had to spend some time in the shop. The mechanic got it back to me quickly, but now my employer wouldn’t put me back on the schedule because she thought I had an unreliable vehicle. I looked for another job, but they were scarce. By the end of the month, I was running out of money and had no immediate offers.

After days of gaining a few more gray hairs, not knowing what I was going to do, my Mom suggested I should just move home. At least I would have a roof over my head and food in my belly, while I was looking for a new job. That was kind of her, but “home” was 1000 miles north of Florida. With the last bit of money I had, I packed my meager belongings and Bear and I headed “home.”

We arrived the middle part of November, cold weather already setting in. It took some getting used to, I can tell you that, for both me and Bear.

No longer did we have our weekly trip to the beach. The weather was too cold outside for a hose bath and Bear was too big to fit in the bathtub. I finally had to resort to taking him to a groomer. Well, wouldn’t you know it, he came home with fleas! By the time I realized it, they had already invaded the house. We’ve been bombing the house and Bear has been getting more baths than usual, but either he’s still bringing them in from outside or new flea eggs are hatching in the carpet. It’s been a never ending battle for months.

We’re still trying to figure out what we’re going to do about this problem, but if the economy hadn’t gone down the tubes, if my work hours hadn’t been cut, if I’d had the money to buy a new truck, if I hadn’t had to move from Florida, none of this would ever have happened and my dog would never have gotten fleas!  What a life!  And so the story goes, the dogs suffer alongside their man or womanly best friend.