Fleas have invaded. Finding sanctuary on our dog, they have occasionally ventured from dog to carpet or furniture, and from there, to human. We are fighting a war.
To win the war against fleas, one must fight on multiple fronts. Treat the dog – “their “homeland” – then treat all the other places they may hide in the home. Our next battle plan involves treating key dog resting spots outside the home. If necessary, the dog may be restricted from coming in the home for a while. Clearly, without the dog, fleas would not be a problem. Fleas like dogs. But then, so do people.
My family has nearly always had dogs. From my earliest memories, dogs were a part of our life, and therefore, fleas were too. I remember one time when I was about 15 years old the fleas nearly got the best of me. We had been on a long vacation, leaving the house closed up, waiting for our return. Meanwhile, the fleas were multiplying and getting hungry. As we arrived home, inserted the key in the lock, and cracked open the door, the fleas were jumping for joy. The hungry masses were ready to pounce on the incoming smorgasbord.
I remember coming into the house and walking back to my bedroom to drop my bags on the bed. As I stood there beside my bed, I felt a tingling sensation on my legs. I looked down. A black mass of little hungry fleas was swarming up my legs. A stampede of miniature blood suckers, rushing in for a meal. I ran, yelling for help. We treated me, the dogs and the house. We finally won the battle, but for days I felt like I had little things crawling all over me, even when there was nothing there.
The Bible says the devil is like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, but sometimes I think he and his minions attack more like fleas. I am moving through life well enough, then some little worry, bad habit, or pet sin comes along. I let it into my heart and mind. The fleas take up residence and make themselves at home. I notice one or two. A worry, a thought, a concern. I brush it off; fail to deal with it. Next thing I know, the fleas have multiplied and I am overwhelmed. I finally wise up and run screaming for help when there is only one thing left to do. Treat the whole house. I don’t think there is such a thing as “just a few fleas.” At least, not for long. Either they are being eradicated as you deal with them decisively, or they are multiplying like crazy while you ignore them. I hate fleas.