I hate ticks.  They are the spawn of the devil and should all be destroyed.  I hated them up in Maine, I hated them in Oklahoma and I hate them here and now. This has been a horrible year for ticks across much of the country. Both Ron and I found ticks crawling on us after we worked on a tree that came down across our fence back in the spring. It has been years since I have pulled a tick off of any of my animals. Until now.

In particular, I pulled a huge engorged tick off my dog Sadie a week or so ago. Yuck. This one had found a place on the back of Sadie's neck that I don't pet very often because it was there long enough to grow huge. As soon as I found it I grabbed a pair of needle nose plyers and pulled it off. Yes, needle nosed plyers. A large pair of tweezers would have worked but all I had were small ones perfectly sized for pulling the occasional eyebrow hair.

As soon as the tick was swished to death and disposed of, I tried to forget all about it. Ticks, of course, don't always come cleanly out of the skin when they are removed. If they leave mouth or head parts in the skin, there will be an infection. Anyone who had dealt with ticks knows this.  I know this.  Except I didn't think to check Sadie's neck for signs of an infection.  When I finally rubbed my hand down her neck, I found a huge knot. Yup. An infection.

Sadie had a trip to the vet's on Thursday. She got an antibiotic shot and 10 days worth of antibiotic pills.  She also got a little cup of whipped cream when I stopped to get coffee on the way home and I swung through Jack in the Box to get her some French fries. I feel like she should be adequately rewarded for being a good girl at the vet's.

The ugly sore on Sadie's neck already looks better.  She will heal fine.