Wood tick, paranoia.

I feel like to only time I'm inspired to write short narratives is when something has gone terribly wrong.  Of course this isn't always the case...but it has been for the past month or so.

If you are a contemporary of mine and were asked to write a short list of things that disgust me it would go something like this

1. The sound that hands make when they rub across carpet (the sound of snow pants swooshing together is equally nauseating)


2. Asian carp (look it up on youtube, I'm horribly afraid and disgusted by these animals and I'm sure there will be a long blog post about how much I hate them in the near future)

3.  TICKS!

I hate ticks.  Hate them.  There are no reasons for their existence.  Wood ticks are horrible parasites that will crawl up your leg unannounced, attach to a warm part of your body, and then begin stealthily leeching the blood from your unaware veins.  They are disgusting, blood filled, disease carriers and everyone should duct tape their pants to their legs to prevent an encounter.

With that being said.  There was an encounter last night.

This spring has been a ticky bastard and I've had several encounters.  For some reason I let my guard down last night and played fetch with Mudd in tall grass.  I threw a stick, he joyfully leaped like a deer into the weeds, and fetched the stick.  This went on for some time. 

Eventually, the dog grew tired of the game and trotted inside for a Jane-cuddle-session.  As I calmly pat the dog and watched tv I noticed a bump on his neck.  A TICK!  Of course I couldn't touch it so I screamed for Kyle to come and yank the tick off Mudd's neck and cut it's head off with an exact-o blade.  I thought the ordeal was over after the beheading.  I pet the dog some more.  Another tick and the same reaction from Jane.

So, we sit down and tick check the dog.  My heart is pounding.  Kyle found a tick on his ear and tried to grab it but the tick literally disappeared into thin air.  Of course, I'm freaking out because the bastard was somewhere loose in the carpet.  I was asked to "chill out" because a loose tick is going to find blood.  Ten minutes late I heard Kyle chuckling as he watched a tick crawl up his hand.  THE TICK FOUND KYLE!!!  I was horrified.

All in all we found 7 horrible ticks on a 15 pound rat terrier.  It was terrible.  Booooo.