St. Ouch’s Day - Patron Saint of Fleas
10:06 AM: Trousers and Skirt have gone
mad. They are going from room to room with cans, spraying
everything. They’re spraying curtains and carpets and chairs and
cushions - in fact everything that doesn’t move. Just in case
they decide to spray everything that does move, I’m getting out
6:00 PM: Spent the day lying under
the rowan tree enjoying the warmth of the sun. Bobin flew onto
the tree and chirped, “You’re not my friend.”
“Why?” I asked
“Why why?” he asked.
“Why why why?” I asked.
He looked puzzled and flew away.
Fortunately my humans have stopped being mad
but to be safe I have sneaked into the house and I’m hiding
under the bed. My whole body is swollen and sore from flea
bites. I think someone has opened a restaurant in my fur.
11:00 PM: My humans found me and
sprayed me with that awful stuff. I smell so bad I won’t be able
to go out in public for a month.