Brad Paisley, please stop singing.

Brad Paisley, please stop singing!  Ticks, real ticks, are back in town.  I was driving home from training yesterday when I looked over at Remy, who was lying contentedly in her kennel.  OH no!  Arising from nowhere,  an adult tick was climbing quickly over Remy's rough coat.   Climbing straight toward me! This warranted an emergency pull-over, as I rushed to grab the tick before it disappeared into the white abyss. (How ticks can hide in white hair is the 8th Natural Wonder of the World).   I grabbed it - yes, got it. Nope, now it was grabbing me, trying to crawl out of my grip.  Adrenaline pumping, I pulled  that scuttling sucker off my hand and threw it to the road.  But the play was under review, pending a thorough tick check.  Yes, victory! No tick in the truck! But it was a fleeting victory at best because outside the ticks are making their yearly comeback.  And I don't want to hear Paisley singing again until October.