Monday, October 12, 2009


I hate ticks. I hate them, hate them, hate them. They are gross, nasty, little bloodsucking parasites. They have no purpose, of which I am aware anyway, beyond the spreading of disease.

They gross me out. After I find one on me, I spend hours and days afterward shivering at random times, just imagining their little tick legs crawling on my and their little tick faces burrowing themselves in my freaking skin.


When the dogs happen to pick up a tick, I'm much better about it. Not super cool, because they're still disgusting parasites after all, but certainly cooler than when I find one on me. When that happens, I generally come running out into whatever room Joe happens to be in proclaiming (some might call it screaming) "THERE'SATICKONME!GETITOFF!GETITOFF!" or something along those lines.

It happened again this morning.

Mischa and I had gone to obedience class this past Saturday and we'd taken a walk on the Mountain Division Trail in southern Maine. Mischa picked up three ticks, all of which I found and pulled off before they could stick their little parasitic heads anywhere. After the third tick, I made a mental note to do a tick check on myself later on.

And forgot.

So this morning, as I was getting ready to shower for work, I found the little bloodsucker on my backside. And by backside, I mean my actual back side. If he was on my ass (Oh God. I can't even imagine having a tick on my ass), I would've said 'ass'. So yeah. There was a tick on my back, at about the waistline level.

Cue screaming.

Joe, having had the day off, was sitting on the couch and checking his email when I flew into the room.

"There's a tick on me," I said. "You have to get it off me."

Joe looked up from the computer screen. "Wow. Look at that."

"Yeah, look at that," I said. "Get it off. Now. Now. Get it off."

"Okay," Joe said and continued with his email.

"Stop screwing around with the internet and get this thing off me," I said. My teeth may have been a little clenched at this point.

"I'm not screwing around with the internet," Joe said.

"Stop with the email and get this thing off me!"

Finally, Joe put the computer aside and followed me into the kitchen where I started digging through the cupboard where we store all the dogs' first aid (and with a dog like Mischa, we do need a full cupboard crammed with first aid paraphernalia) gear, looking for the tweezers.

"How am I going to get it off?" Joe asked.

"Why do you always ask that?" I asked. "Every time I need you to remove a tick from me you always ask how you're going to get it off. Why? Why do you do that?"

Joe didn't respond. Don't know why.

I found the tweezers and Joe set to work removing the offending little parasite from my back. That little frakker did not want to come out but eventually, Joe won. Pretty sure his head came out too. At least it looked like it was still attached to the rest of him.

I now have a nice red spot on my back. I had to cover it with a band aid to protect it from my clothing. Just waiting now to see what precious little disease the damn thing gave me. Will it be Lyme disease? Or maybe Rocky Mountain Spotted fever? Or how about Rabbit Fever?

I'll keep you posted.


  1. I'm with you on the tick hatred. I remember one time Sox, one of our border collies, must have gotten into a nest of them. I'm about to leave for work and I see a tick. Ok, I can deal. I get the tweezers and pull it off. Then I found another, and another. I stopped counting after 28. I was almost late for work, but I got them all. I still do the willy-girly-creep out dance when I think about it.

    Good luck with dodging the tick disease stuff. If it was a big one, they're not the Lyme disease kind. I'll send some good disease free vibes your way.

  2. 28 ticks?? I'm doing a willy-girly-creep out dance just thinking about that. I think the most we've ever had to pull off one of the dogs was five. And by 'we', I mean me as the significant other was not home at that time. Though I did consider calling him...

    And I did take reassurance that it wasn't a deer tick (I'm assuming dog tick) on my back so I know Lyme disease is definitely out but still, the whole thing just creeps me out.