Excerpt:
A couple days after I got home, I awoke to…god help me…a terrific itch. I looked at my ankles and they were speckled with inflamed red welts. There must have been 30 or 40 marks. But what? How? We’d had some mosquitoes earlier in the summer after the rains, and I’d ventured out last night to see the full moon, but how had this many skeeters attacked me in those brief moments? I hadn’t been in any tall grass. Chiggers were out of the question.
I made some coffee and wandered into the living room; there on the couch was Rascal, inverted as usual. How a nine pound cat can occupy the entire sofa is beyond me, but as I dragged him from the center cushion, I saw a speck of something emerge from his fur, and it leapt upon me. It happened so quickly I could scarcely comprehend the event. But then I saw another. And another.
Fleas.
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