Flea-ing from the wife

Sporting Gun - - Letters -

I shot some rab­bits the other day and put them in the boot of my car. When I got home, I saw they were in­fested with fleas. I wouldn’t mind, but I used my wife’s lit­tle run­about and she will not be happy.

Ed says: Been there, done that. My old van, which would have made any health and safety in­spec­tor look twice, did have one or two rab­bits thrown into it dur­ing the time I abused it. I re­mem­ber one day driv­ing some­where with the lad that worked with me at the time. We pulled up at a farm and, on turn­ing the ig­ni­tion off, I could hear this faint but con­sis­tent tap­ping on tin. Con­fused as to what it was, we both tried to find the noise. Af­ter a few sec­onds, it was ap­par­ent the noise was what can only be de­scribed as a healthy pop­u­la­tion of fleas danc­ing on the rub­bish that lit­tered the van. Not a pleas­ant sight, but amusing in its own way. Be­ing the feral per­son I once was, I didn’t do any­thing about them. They didn’t bite me, so I never felt it was a prob­lem. They soon dis­persed, but per­haps a pest con­troller would be your best bet. I’m sure there are many lo­tions and po­tions you could put in the car, or if you re­ally want to push your luck, sug­gest she wears an anti-flea col­lar.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.