Pissed Off Putty-Tat

Remember your introduction to Hagrid, our new kitten?

Well, Hagrid (commonly referred to as little cat) has fleas. We're not talking like 4-5 fleas, we're talking like 4-5 HUNDRED fleas. I gave little cat a bath last night (much to his dismay) and picked off about 100 of the little bastards.

Today, he's still scratching like mad, so I gave him another one. And, this afternoon, after he's dried off completely, and the colonies have built their new condo's on different areas of his little body, he'll likely get another one.

You ask, sdk? Why don't you give him a flea bath, and call it good? My answer? Last time I did that, the kitten in question got pneumonia, racked up a 700 dollar vet bill and died anyway. We'll not be putting flea bath stuff on the kitten until he's old enough to have his nuts whacked off. (And yeah, I'm really going to do that to him.)

So, here is our 6 year old's photo shoot of the incident, with monologue from yours truly.

Hagrid meets bubbles.

Hagrid meets the faucet with a real attitude. He's very, very pissed off about this.

Hagrid gets transferred from the tub to my toweled lap. Again, not happy.

Hagrid calls mommy a bastard nazi. Only bastard nazi's would do this to a kitten, he says.

Mommy squeezes Hagrid's icky little friends, plucks them off, and into the garbage they go.