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Yup, about 2 years ago 'I' managed to give my dog fleas.
This has no SC involvement, just an all around sucky situation.
I work at a locksmiths. We sometimes re-key forclosed properties. A realtor got a listing for a foreclosed property from a bank. She got no keys, so realtor called us to go and gain access and re-key the front door only. (Realtors like ushering prospective buyers in through front doors, seems to make a better impression. With this property she should have them climb in a window and the impression would have been much better.)
Boss decides he can't interupt his game of solitaire, so he has me go do it. I get there and the front screen door is completely overgrown with ivy. I gave it a few tugs and nothing budges, so I call realtor and describe. She still wants keys to front door and says she will get someone to de-ivy the screen door. Could I go in the back, walk through the house and open front door from inside, make the key and just leave back door unlocked, she will call someone to go de-ivy that day.
OoooKay, I pick open back door, walk through house, holding my breath, cause there must have been some spoiling food in the trash scattered about, and go to work on the front door. I glance around several times, cause I keep seeing the brown carpeting in the living room move out of the corner of my eyes.
Then I look down...........
The "brown carpeting" is crawling up my legs...
I freaked. I de-ivyed the front screen door in one swift motion (and propably bent the screen door and frame) as I threw myself against it to get out.
I'm outside brushing at my clothing, while discovering, that standing still, while brushing them off does absolutely no good, as they jump just right back on.
So now I'm running up and down the yard, while frantically brushing. Getting some weird looks form the neighbors now.
I call the boss and tell him my predicament. His answer:" Sooooo, are you done there? We have more service calls lined up."
I DO finish the front door, really fast, figuring I'm already flea infested now and there is no way I'm ever coming back here again, after this.
Then I call my husband to meet me in our back yard behind the bushes with a garbage bag, a change of clothing, the garden hose and the dogs flea shampoo. Then I stopped and got a flea bomb for the van. In the meantime the boss kept calling every 5 minutes: "What is taking so long?"
"I'm de-flea-ing myself and the van. What, you want me to show up for the next service call flea infested?"
But sure enough, 3 days later, my dog had fleas.
This has no SC involvement, just an all around sucky situation.
I work at a locksmiths. We sometimes re-key forclosed properties. A realtor got a listing for a foreclosed property from a bank. She got no keys, so realtor called us to go and gain access and re-key the front door only. (Realtors like ushering prospective buyers in through front doors, seems to make a better impression. With this property she should have them climb in a window and the impression would have been much better.)
Boss decides he can't interupt his game of solitaire, so he has me go do it. I get there and the front screen door is completely overgrown with ivy. I gave it a few tugs and nothing budges, so I call realtor and describe. She still wants keys to front door and says she will get someone to de-ivy the screen door. Could I go in the back, walk through the house and open front door from inside, make the key and just leave back door unlocked, she will call someone to go de-ivy that day.
OoooKay, I pick open back door, walk through house, holding my breath, cause there must have been some spoiling food in the trash scattered about, and go to work on the front door. I glance around several times, cause I keep seeing the brown carpeting in the living room move out of the corner of my eyes.
Then I look down...........
The "brown carpeting" is crawling up my legs...
I freaked. I de-ivyed the front screen door in one swift motion (and propably bent the screen door and frame) as I threw myself against it to get out.
I'm outside brushing at my clothing, while discovering, that standing still, while brushing them off does absolutely no good, as they jump just right back on.
So now I'm running up and down the yard, while frantically brushing. Getting some weird looks form the neighbors now.
I call the boss and tell him my predicament. His answer:" Sooooo, are you done there? We have more service calls lined up."
I DO finish the front door, really fast, figuring I'm already flea infested now and there is no way I'm ever coming back here again, after this.
Then I call my husband to meet me in our back yard behind the bushes with a garbage bag, a change of clothing, the garden hose and the dogs flea shampoo. Then I stopped and got a flea bomb for the van. In the meantime the boss kept calling every 5 minutes: "What is taking so long?"
"I'm de-flea-ing myself and the van. What, you want me to show up for the next service call flea infested?"
But sure enough, 3 days later, my dog had fleas.
biscuit.
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