IN MEMORY OF SUBRA

A Warning About Traditional Flea Medications

I rushed to watch the latest episode of the Two Crazy Cat Ladies Podcast, barely glancing at the subject line. Had I paid more attention, I might not have hit play. The topic was conventional flea medications—a subject that hits a nerve for me. 

But almost immediately, they shared information I hadn’t heard before. So I kept watching. And now, I feel compelled to share my own story. It’s not easy, but I believe it needs to be told. I would be honored if you’d read it, in memory of my cat, Subra.

Some years ago, we had a Chihuahua who seemed to be a flea magnet. We also had nine cats who were meticulous groomers. By the time we noticed we had a flea problem, it was already an infestation. I prefer natural remedies, but this was a full-blown crisis. I gave in and spent a small fortune on conventional flea treatments. Thankfully, we didn’t have any problems. But then, I got the call.

At the time, I worked for a cat-only pet sitting business. One day, a sitter called me in a panic. She had followed the client’s instructions and applied a topical flea treatment during her visit. Within minutes, the cat began foaming at the mouth. She rushed the cat to the vet, who managed to save her—just barely. The vet highly doubted the cat would have survived if she'd applied the medication at the end of her visit, as she'd have missed the reaction.

These medications are poison. That’s not a figure of speech—they are literally designed to kill. We apply them to the back of the neck so cats can’t lick them off, because it's known that ingesting them is dangerous. But cats groom. They rub. They roll. They clean each other. They claim their space. Within the 24 hours it takes for these meds to "dry," they live their normal lives—exposing themselves and others to toxins. I thanked God my cats were okay and swore never to use them again. One of those cats was Subra. I won't go on and on about how special she was—but she was.

Fast forward a few years. Subra was 14, but a young 14. She had never been sick and was one of the most well-behaved cats I’d ever known—and I say that as a certified feline behaviorist. Then something changed. Little things. She was more lethargic. She still ate, but seemed “off.” It was time for the vet.

I had to work, so my adult son and his fiance rushed her in. I wrote a detailed note outlining her symptoms and recent history, including the fact that we’d had a minor flea issue but were treating it naturally with Flea Ex. No live fleas had been found in over 24 hours. It was under control.

Subra was taken to the back for bloodwork and sent home. The bill was considerably higher than the estimate they'd given. I looked it over—and there it was. They had administered Revolution, a conventional flea medication. They didn’t ask. They didn’t tell. They just did it, behind closed doors and charged my card.

I left a voicemail asking how this happened. While waiting for a response, Subra's condition worsened. She had eaten before the appointment but never ate or drank again afterward. Her lethargy turned into collapse. Within an hour, she was gone. It was not a peaceful death. It haunts me. And I paid for it..

I turned to Google. And the warnings were there—not to administer Revolution to a cat showing signs of illness. Subra was sick. And I took her to the vet. And the vet administered Revolution. And I paid for it.

The vet eventually responded via email. They gave it to her because they had found one, dead flea. I reminded them that I’d reported fleas and had been using Flea Ex successfully. A dead flea should have come as no surprise. There was only one and they found zero eggs. But against manufacturer guidelines, and without my consent, they gave her poison. And she died. And I paid for it..

I didn’t yell, curse or flood them with calls. I didn’t threaten them. I only asked them to stop making this mistake—to protect future animals. They sent a letter to inform us we were fired as clients. Subra is buried under my bedroom window. And I paid for it.

I’m writing this because this story isn't mine to keep—not while this is still happening. Veterinarians are administering these treatments every single day. A cat who tolerates one dose might not survive the next. Some are left with permanent damage. Some, like Subra, don’t make it.

Please, I beg you—do your research. Ask questions. Insist on consent. Be your cat’s advocate. And please, remember Subra. She mattered. She still does.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend listening to the Two Crazy Cat Ladies Podcast. This particular episode shared an overwhelming amount of information—even I, a self-declared “Detective Google,” learned a lot. Their content is always insightful, always compassionate, and always focused on making our cats’ lives better. That’s something we all want.