I'm drawing a blank on which movie had that line in it, but I can relate to the sentiments.
I caught Beryl this morning and gave her a bath with the ultra soothing (but not flea-killing) shampoo. When I put the shower head to her, it looked like she was just freely bleeding. Poor baby. I put the shampoo on her and just rubbed and scratched her and talked to her for half an hour, then rinsed and rinsed. The tub was full of fleas; the towel was full of fleas; and Beryl was still full of fleas. So I took her out on the front deck in the sun and flea-combed her as well. Tons of fleas came off her. I combed until I think they were mostly gone (when you do this, you put the hair and fleas in soapy water to contain them and leave them there. Eventually, they will drown). Her skin looked MUCH better. I could tell because I could see it where the hair had fallen out.
We're going to the vet-probably on Monday-to see about a cortisone shot and if there's ANYTHING else we can try. Anyone just looking at her would think, "poor neglected doggie", but she's really not. We feed her every day but she just doesn't eat much. We put eyedrops in when we can catch her and bathe her as often as we can get her into the bathroom. At the moment, she looks pretty good, but by tomorrow morning, she could be right back where she was when we started this morning.
Weirdly enough, she still has her tail hair. When Niki got to this point, her tail was completely bald but she still had plenty of body hair. Beryl is the opposite.
Well, gotta get cracking... I've cleaned the fleas up out of the bathroom, but there's still tons to do around here. Z is going off with Uncle Matt to the city pool for an afternoon of cool, wet entertainment. Maybe I can get something done!