There’s a tick in there…

Monday morning.  At 6 AM we were having more rain.  It pretty much rained on and off the whole long weekend.  No one in our house was in a hurry to go out.  My human managed to drag us out around 7AM.  She gave us the “quick, quick, quick” instruction- which basically means no long walk – we are headed to the backyard where we are expected to go.  Quick. Quick.  QUICK.  As usual, Einstein QUICKLY complied with the instructions.  And me? Nah.  I’m not AS phobic of rain as he is.  

After Einstein did his thing, her highness let him off leash – and he ran around to the front of the house to stand under the front entrance porch.  Meanwhile, she took me part way down the trail to the lake.  She didn’t want to go too far for several reasons:

1. She had not cut the trail grass.  And it was high.  Meaning a potential tick haven.
2.  Because she had expected we would follow the “quick, quick, quick,” instruction, she had not bothered to put on our tick force field bandanas.  So we were defenseless.
Frankly, I didn’t care.  I wandered along.  In the fine rain.  Sniffing, trotting, looking – I was not about to produce results.  She headed back toward the house with me happily leading the way.  She put me and Einstein in, and took out the FG who, like Einstein, followed the q3 instruction for a p3. As he was coming in, it began to rain harder.  Imagine my shock when she came in and put the leash back on me, and went to take me out again.  Seriously?!
This time we headed up to the road.  More cool stuff to sniff. No results.  
By now we are both soaking wet, so she tries one more time in the backyard .  And at this point she doesn’t care WHERE I walk.  Tick haven or not.  She is letting me go in tall grasses, dried (well wet) piles of leaves.  She just wants me to GO.
Nope.  No results.  She walks me back to the house but instead of letting me into the kitchen, opens the door to the grooming torture palace.  She is about to perform the tbc (tick blow check) and also dry me off.
As she is blowing, she notices SOMETHING on the fur on my foot.  She gets a comb and pulls it off – along with a bit of hair. She tries to figure out what it is – and THINKS it is a tick.  So she holds the comb with the THING over the bathtub to get a closer look.
Now I have talked NUMEROUS times about this woman’s lack off coordination. And ….well sometimes a lack of brains. She is holding the comb with her dominant right hand and holding the jet engine dryer nozzle with her non-dominant, even less coordinated left hand. One step toward the tub and in a classic case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing, she blows the “thing” somewhere.  Who KNOWS where it went.  I’ve said before that that dryer could blow a chihuahua into the next county. Imagine what it could do to a tick.
Of course she screamed and attempted to actually find the thing.  Ever been in our garage?  Picture a combo grooming torture chamber, second hand store, tool and gardening center, recycling warehouse- oh and a small place to park a car.  So do you see the futility in trying to find a piece of dog hair with a tick attached?  But she tried to find him.  While I stood on the grooming table watching. She finally gave up after about 15 minutes.
So somewhere in our garage – we MIGHT have a tick. She’ll be looking at every dot she sees on the floor for months now.  We might have to move.  I’m surprised she didn’t put up warning signs at the entrance to the garage.  Or that yellow crime scene tape.
Oh and I finally did produce a p3 later that afternoon.   No problem.  Sometimes I just like to shake things up around here.  Never EVER a dull moment.
Have a good one.  Peace and paws up.
Seizure free days: 25

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