Friday, December 14, 2012


Warning: this post is not for the squeamish.

This rural living is certainly toughening us up and making us more cautious.

The other day I picked up what looked like a black bead off the dark wood floor. I was busy so I set it on the dark kitchen counter and forgot about it. When Daughter came home from school, I asked if she'd lost a bead (she makes bracelets) and told her it was on the counter. She said, "Mummy, that's not a bead. It's moving."

I didn't believe her at first and decided to set the bead in the middle of a white piece of paper. I thought it had probably just rolled which made it look like it was moving. So the next time I walked through the kitchen, the bead had moved to the edge of the paper. Closer inspection revealed tiny legs at the front of a huge body.

It only took a few minutes of internet searching to find out it was a tick. A very full tick. So at that point we quickly put it in a jar and stopped touching it. (Yes, I had been squeezing it.)

I'm still not sure why it was on the floor. But we did decide we should inspect Dog closely. We found two smaller ticks on her neck. Poor thing. We found the best way to remove one is with tweezers, pulled firmly from close to the skin.

And yes, we washed our hands good and disinfected the kitchen counter top.

Tick about the size of a coffee bean.


  1. For some bizzare reason, my mother is a known tick expert, and my dad seems to have a heightened fear of them. By some interesting coincidence, my husband has a similar fear of fleas, and I've taken on a flea experting role.

    1. That's good to know. I'll have to get her advice about dealing with them since it appears they will be a constant problem for us.