Every summer the basement, where the cat spends most of her time, starts feeling funny. If I’m down there for more than a minute or two, there are odd little scratches and tingles on my legs — and then a few days later, marks on my ankles that seem to be bug bites. But I can’t see any bugs — what’s going on? The answer is always the same: it’s cat fleas like these, sucking my blood. Left undealt with, they soon grow to visible size:
This is one product of evolution I really just have no appreciation for. Leave it to Hooke to make something so annoying so beautiful. Drawings like his, and these, give me something to ponder as I vacuum, launder, and (most hopeless aspect of any flea-fighting campaign) try to catch the cat to give her a treatment.