Happy Monday, everyone! I hope your weekend was more exciting than mine. I spent the bulk of it cleaning our house from top to bottom, which was an admittedly long overdue chore. Bedding was washed, dusty corners were swept, the bathroom was wiped down, and the anything that could be vacuumed was: not only the floors and rugs, but curtains, the couches, and even our mattress.

I wish I could say that after 26 years of being a slob, I experienced a sudden epiphany, but there was definitely a reason for the sudden, frantic deep-clean. Otis, our beloved, moody cat, has fleas.

We’re not sure exactly how he got them, since he is an indoor kitty. Our best guesses are:

  1. A little bugger hitched a ride inside on either JB or me, or
  2. One wandered in through an open window, in which Otis loves to sit

Whatever the origin, all of our attentions have focused on Operation Flea Removal.

Although it has been really gross, I am thankful that Otis is healthy. There was a solid week where he was pulling out his hair on his back and leaving these giant piles of fur all over the house. We were completely at a loss as to what was causing his weird(er) behavior, but a huge, ghastly bald spot from his self-mutilation dictated that we bring him to the vet. As soon as the vet took a closer look at said bald spot, a flea strolled boldy across the exposed skin. Of course, both JB and I had  both spent a good bulk of time digging through his fur prior to bring him to the doctor and did not see any fleas. Classic, right? Nevertheless, we were relieved. Otis is no spring chicken, so we were really afraid his sudden hair loss was something more serious.

Let me just take a moment to illustrate how stubborn Otis is. Part of the flea treatment involved giving him a pill to kill the fleas that were living on him. The vet stuck the pill inside a treat, which should have been Otis-kryptonite. For the first time in his life, Otis was unphased by the possibility of food. He ignored it. Like, straight-up “did not even look at the treat” ignored it. A vet tech had to hold the poor guy down while the vet popped the pill into his mouth. Otis refused to swallow it. The vet then proceeded to massage his throat, but Otis’ resolve remained strong. He only swallowed the medicine because the vet blew into his face, although it took him a few moments of getting breathed on to finally eat it. It was kind of like watching a spy under interrogation refuse to give in – sad, but still a little hilarious in a way.

Now that he has been officially medicated, the name of the game is keeping our house spotless. Daily vacuuming in all his usual haunts is a must. Although it’s bound to be a pain in the butt, I will admit that it did feel good to waltz into a clean home after work. Maybe I’ll be able to make a habit out of this.

Anyway, enough about our bug problems. It’s Monday, so that means it’s time to post our weekly menu! This week we’re cookin’ up:

Here is a picture from tonight’s dinner: