Wrong. Never forget to look a gift horse in the mouth. There might be bedbugs in there.
That’s right. This furniture came covered with signs denoting its infestation with bedbugs, which, as we all know, are awful. Unfazed, Miya and I continued into our apartment building and dared those vermin to climb five flights of stairs just to eat us in our sleep.
The good news is that our apartment is still bug-free. The bad news is that our neighbor’s bedbug infestation corresponded almost precisely with our laundromat’s decision to try out a new detergent. So when Miya and I woke up the next morning with irritated bumps and rashes on our arms and feet, we immediately ran out to buy a vacuum cleaner, bed risers, and double-sided carpet tape to begin our war against the bugs.
The good news is that our war against the bed bugs involved a thorough washing of all of our sheets, towels, and clothes with good ol’ Tide. Our skin is no longer irritated, and we have yet to see any bugs in or around our apartment. The bad news is that Dexter is terrified by each of the following: vacuum cleaners, bags filled with anything, frenetic cleaning, leisurely cleaning, and anything being lifted into the air. Sufficed to say, that was a pretty tough day for him, and 24 hours after it had finished, he had still eaten virtually none of his food.
We weren’t all that worried about Dex. He’s a finicky eater with a sensitive stomach, so going a day or only grazing at his bowl is expected on occasion. The previous weekend, we’d watched the Superbowl at our friends’ apartment with our friends’ new kitten, Mukluk. As we all watched the game, Mukluk never once took his eyes off Dexter. Perched safely on his carpeted shelf, the only time the kitten moved at all was to shift slightly to one side to keep Dexter in view whenever he sauntered towards the kitchen. Then, shortly before halftime, Mukluk unleashed an intensely foul, room-clearing stream of kitty-vomit. So I figured, if Mukluk could develop a rancid ulcer during only a couple of hours of football, then Dex’s stomach certainly could have been sufficiently turned during a day of unrestrained cleaning, lifting, and bag-filling.
After about a day and a half of watching Dexter eat only snacks on his walks and Kongs filled wet dog food, Miya – my better, smarter, and more compassionate half – took action. As poor Dex sat on his mat, staring forlornly at his full bowl of food 15 feet away, Miya went to the closet door beside his dish. She opened the closet, pulled out our new vacuum cleaner, and carried it (terrifyingly) to be stored in the other closet, far from Dex’s food.
Dex finished the entire bowl, and a second helping, in a matter of minutes.
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