My Latest Obsession...

Checking my dogs for ticks.

Up until yesterday, the weather has been outstanding here and we've spent a lot of time outside with the dogs. Last week while rubbing Brady's belly, I found a little bump. I wasn't sure what it was and called for Robin. Sure enough. It was a tick.

I am not a squeamish person. I take it back. I am squeamish when it comes to certain things. Especially smells. A few years ago, Robin broke her arm (imagine that) while in a meeting and I had to meet her at the ER. The smell of a hospital immediately makes me feel sick. I found her in her room, then excused myself while I went and threw up. When I came back, I must have looked awful because when the doctor finally came in to check on her arm, he immediately assumed I was the patient.

But bugs, including ticks, do not freak me out. I have a habit of playing with my hair while watching TV. Many many years ago, after a weekend of camping, I was home on Sunday night, watching TV and playing with my hair. I felt a bump on my scalp and sure enough, it was a tick. We got it off and I lived.

I do, however, have other experience with ticks. When I first moved to Miami, we had a tick infestation. It's something I seriously do not want to live through again. They started, I guess, in a wet wood pile outside the house we were renting. Before we knew, it, they were literally climbing our walls!!!

So after finding the tick on Brady the other day, I became a little paranoid.

We had an awful thunderstorm last night. Normally the dogs don't sleep with us, but they were scared, so we divided them up. Buddy, Baxter and I slept in the guest room.

I woke up this morning to the two snoring dogs. I sleepily began petting them. My eyes bounced open when I felt a bump on Baxter. I pulled whatever it was off him and held in my PJ top and ran to the kitchen to examine it. Couldn't find it, so I must have dropped it. That, or it's now in my hair. Ran back to the guest room and saw all kinds of ticks! I began to panic! I frantically began trying to pick them up. The more I picked at them, the less success I had. Damn these bugs. Damn them to hell.

Then dawned on me. I was picking at the brown polka dots on my pink quilt. Oops.

Guess I'll never really know what it was I picked off Baxter. Poor little fella. At least he still has both ears.