Tasty Taenia

Tapeworms. The Addiverse has been infested with tapeworms.

Thankfully, it is not me or the wife who have the tapeworms.....

.....at least, I certainly hope we have joined the world of tapeworms. It's Freckles.  (And, most likely Lucy, too--why keep all the fun to one dog?)

BTW, when I hear the word "tapeworm," I always picture people lying in bed, trying to sleep, with a bowl of sour milk on their pillows, so the tapeworms within them will crawl out of some orphace and go to the milk. I have no idea if that's how they REALLY get tapeworms out of a human, but that's what I've been told from the olden days.

Back to Freckles and her taenia. This illustration is from "dr-dan.com," so props to him. It shows how the tapeworm comes to be in the life of a canine. His website also features a great description of "those disgusting tapeworms," so I am all about Dr. Dan.

But how, you might be asking, did we figure out Freckles has a tapeworm? Sit down and don't be eating while reading this.

I was walking by the river this morning with MJagger, trying to get three miles of exercise done before the adventures of Labor Day, when my cell phone chimes. (Yes, I carry my cell phone when we walk. What if I drop over with a heart attack or one of us breaks a leg during our 13 minute mile-blistering pace? Gotta be able to call 911. Safe walking. That's me.) It's the wife and she's texting me: "Plz come home after walking. Call me when ur done."

Okay, that can't be a good sign. I decide to call when we are done, as we are 2.5 miles into our 3 mile walk at the time of the text.

MJagger and I are stretching (don't want any injuries from our efforts) while I am on the phone. The wife informs me, in no uncertain terms, that Freckles has a tapeworm. I ask how she knows this, as it's not like either of us are well-versed on canine parasites. She describes the little white moving piece of rice in said canine's poop this morning, adding how a similar piece-of-rice-maggot-thing jumped onto the laptop monitor the other day and she had no idea where it came from or how it jumped up there. (You would think she would have mentioned this to me, but for some reason, she didn't. It's not like little maggots jump on your computer monitor every day.) I don't like to hear the word "maggot" and poop, as there is a horrible, horrible story (of which I shall not speak) from MJagger and my past, and thus this maggot thing is greatly upsetting to me. The wife assures me she has consulted the "Hound Health Handbook" by Betsy Brevitz (our bible of the "what-the-hell's-wrong-with-the-dog-now?" investigations) and that the little white moving piece of rice is part of the tapeworm.

We both then start to think of all clues we've had that something might be amiss: the rumbling tummy I made mention of last week; the gross-looking poop over the past few days; the strange episode of diarrhea in the house.....have we had our heads in our asses or what? I drive home and scamper into the house.

What do we do when I get in the house? Why, we get into a fight, yelling and screaming at each other, as that's ALWAYS so helpful when faced with stress. I'm yelling about the maggots, she's yelling at my yelling, I'm yelling that we have to throw everything away to de-flea the house, she's yelling that she is not going to flea-bomb the house, etc.

It is absolutely moronic and does nothing to address the situation but I'm guessing the neighbors loved it. (Note to self: shut front door when screaming at each other.)

The wife calls the vet while I quickly shower. Yes, yes--the description confirms the tapeworm presence. The key is medication. The vet seems to think the wife and I are not infected with a tapeworm, but I have to tell you, it's hard to think otherwise.

I don't want a sour bowl of milk on my pillow!

I go to the vet and pick up the prescribed Droncit. It will de-worm the dogs in one serving. I am skeptical about this one-pill thing but trust that the vet knows what she's doing. Besides, a quick peek at the Internet (because the Internet is ALWAYS full of correct information) confirms that Droncit is the choice medication for getting rid of tapeworms and that the dose provided is the dose indicated on all the websites I check.

It's easy to get the pill into the dogs, as they LOVE peanut butter and I am able to hide the pill in the gob of cherished goo.

The next issue are the fleas. If tapeworms come to be in a dog via fleas (ingested or bites, I am not here to figure that out), this means at some point or at this point the dogs have fleas. I've never seen a flea on them (I do look quite often when combing them), but that doesn't mean they don't or haven't had them. Besides, dogs go outside and fleas can jump on and off whenever they dang well please. I've never missed a dose of topical flea medication but that doesn't keep fleas from jumping on and it certainly doesn't keep the dogs from eating fleas. Bomb the house? Throw away everything? Wash everything? Move out? I assure the wife that my parents had to flea-bomb their house once a month when living in California and no one was worse for the wear. This does nothing to de-stress the situation and on the fighting continues. We drop the subject.

The next, next issue is the now-non-functioning Oprah washing machine. The wife has been a washing fool and has been running the washing machine non-stop since this all surfaced. Next thing I know, she stomps up the stairs, obviously very pissed off. It seems that the Oprah washing machine (you know, the one she got free when on the Oprah show a few years back and the exact same model that died at Pastor Master Reiki and Blue Eyes' house just a few short weeks ago) is no longer working. It is stuck in the middle of the cycle and won't spin, won't go, won't rinse, won't do anything. As this is the same issue PMReiki and Blue Eyes experienced before the death of their machine, it does nothing to make the wife feel one shred better. (Side note: do NOT ever buy the same washing machine we have--Oprah was really wrong about this "favorite thing" of hers. I suppose she doesn't do her own laundry so she doesn't really know it is a sucky machine, so we can forgive her for now.) This means, as the wife coldly says, means we now have to go to the Laundromat.

Oh goody. This is shaping up to be one fun Labor day weekend.

Suffice it to say, I best stop blogging and best start doing something about the whole tapeworm fiasco. I don't know what fun is in store for us but I'm guessing there will be some gross poop, a whole lot of unwashed items and a lot of scowls and silence.

As long as the wife and I don't have tapeworms, all will end up being well in the Addiverse. The washer can be fixed or replaced, the dogs will be de-wormed before we know it. But us? I am so afraid of that sour bowl of milk......who wants a tapeworm crawling out of our mouth or nose while we are sleeping???

I can't think about this. Someone get me a Dove Dark Chocolate and a working washing machine. That or a whole bunch of quarters. Those laundromat machines are gonna suck down a whole chunk of change.......

I am so sending the bill to Oprah.
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