It's Flea Season!

Most parents with seven children dread the Christmas holiday season. Me, I hate flea season.

However, it is a universal truth that She Who Sleeps With Cats will one day be She Who Wakes With Fleas unless said she buys seven tubes of flea medicine and squeezes it onto the back of seven hissing necks once a month.

Do not believe the propaganda the makers of those ridiculously overpriced little tubes put out on TV. Clearly those calm, happy cats who sit patiently during their treatment are on drugs (and I don’t mean just flea meds).

At The House Where The Black Cat Lives, flea treatments never go down without lots of running, hiding, hissing, scratching, crying (me), spitting, sulking and drinking (me again).

I’ve resorted to luring my babies into my bathroom and nabbing them in the tub. I have to block out this creepy visual of Andrea Yates every time I do it, but it seems to work. I don’t know why, but no cat can resist the sight of a closed bathroom door. Ask any cat owner.

Mission Accomplished. Seven sticky necks. Seven empty tubes in the trash can. Seven chocolate martinis left in the cocktail pitcher.

Gawd, I love flea season.

Mama’s flea treatment: CHOCOLATE FLEA-TINI

2 cups of vodka chilled (regular or vanilla flavored)
1 1/2 cups chocolate liquer (oh, hell, splurge for the Godiva)
1/4 cup raspberry liquer (like RazzMatazz)
1/4 cup half and half
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup sweetened ground cocoa
chocolate kisses or truffles (optional)

Stir first 4 ingredients together in a pitcher. Chill. Fill martini glasses with ice. Stand 5 minutes. Discard ice. Dip rims of chilled martini glasses in corn syrup, then dip in cocoa. If desired, place a (peeled) chocolate kiss or truffle into the bottom of each glass. Whisk vodka mixture just before serving. Pour into glasses. Yields 8 servings.

These are good any time, but go down especially well at the end of a long flea treatment session. Some brands of raspberry liquer will turn your drink that lovely brownish purple color the French call puce, which, appropriately enough, means flea.