John Donne, a metaphysical poet, once penned verse about the romantic qualities of fleas. I prefer not to think about petite parasites who feed on human blood. This aversion was challenged after the death of an elderly cat. Last summer, Clint's cat passed away and her fleas fled to the far-reaching crevices of the house. Clint sat on his bed with starched white sheets waiting for the nightly attack. With Karate Kid reflexes, he "purpled" his fingers with preemptive strikes. Yet, Clint consistently woke up with multiple flesh wounds. We used all known methods of DIY extermination. Vacuuming? It spruced up their vampire lair. Bug spray? It only whet their appetite. Finally, on a tip from a family member, we purchased Ortho's Home Defence spray. This manufacturer deserves a medal. The creatures fled from the spray. We are now "donne" with fleas!
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