Coco worked out that we were helping her... she saw what the louse-comb was doing so calmed down and let it happen. But Septimus was having none of it. The feisty little tomcat struggled with all his claws... and bit me, closing his tiny jaws on my thumb and keeping them shut, his face set in an Irish defiance. He has an odd silent meow; but it was not silent this day: he sounded like a soul in torment in Dante's Inferno. But soon he was outside: wet, bedraggled, shampooerated, in the sunshine, beside a shivering sister Coco, who had already had her turn.
While Eva was shampooing a much calmer Backwards, the mightiest kitten, I sat combing the stunned fleas from the kitten-coats. There were thousands. I filled a bucket with them. The kittens were very grumpy for a while. But soon they fluffed out and felt better than ever, were playing pattypaws and dancing about. Mother Lil walked by and did not seem to notice the improvement. She wanted supper.
The fleas are not beaten yet, but this was a battle won. Septimus posed on a table for me to show what a handsome little scamp he can be. Then, while the kittens ate a hearty post de-lousing meal, Eva hit the shower and I jumped into the sea to get all kitten-off-hopped-fleas off-of us......