Some like a consistently predictable & conforming life. With bouts on the wild side. My porch cat is an example. While bucolic autumn afternoons beneath the maple out front are his norm, he is up to something other times. Despite an inflated show of chasing cats off his patch, there is evidence he may be hanging with the wrong crowd. He wouldn’t be the first cat to take a trip under the fence.
When that happens, FTIs can follow. The dreaded transmitted feline issues. A rare case of fleas, it seems. Rare, because he gets the liquid on his nape. As a Russian Blue -he identifies as Ossetian- his thick fur offers protection. In general, he keeps his snout clean.
But fleas there were. Banished outside for a spell, I went on attack with 20 Mule Team Borax about his crate. And collared his condition with the name everyone trusts. Hartz.
Back to the laid-back loafer lifestyle, his significant belly swings with a little more amplitude. Even more cool on block patrol. A Hartz collar is a status symbol. His prosperous look provides him envious stares, but his Hartz collar sends a message. He’s got health care.