Those Dreaded “T” Words

Picture of a tick, a check mark and a watch

After a walk through a field with Toby, I checked my puppy to make sure he had no fur hitchhikers.  That afternoon, just to be safe, I checked him again.  In case there might be any late biters, that evening I checked him again.

I have to say that by the end of the day, he was really ticked with me.

Don't worry, Mom. I'll help.

For heaven’s sake, quit using me as a prop in your lame stories.


Toby, like most pets, is loving this lock down….his grandparents, not so much.  So far, they have had their water filter break, the microwave break and a drain back up.

On top of these things, they are seriously not liking the new mask rules.  My Mom is severely claustrophobic and won’t go anywhere they are required.  Both of my parents are hard of hearing (age related).  Not only are they having trouble hearing people, they can’t lip read with everyone’s faces covered.

What a strange world we find ourselves in.


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Cover of the book Dream Our World

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Tick, Tick, Taken

This “traveling between the worlds” business takes some getting used to.  At this time of year, it is pretty much impossible to get bird or butterfly bodies to borrow since they don’t function well in the cold.  Instead I have been reduced to using ticks.

One fine day last week, I craftily tiptoed onto Toby’s leg as he was walking through some leaves.  Without him even being aware, I crawled up to his collar and latched onto his neck.  It was kind of gross, but I always wanted to be able to bite him and get away with it.  Sadly, before I could complete my mission, Mom found me and flushed me down the toilet.

Back I came…making the slow climb up Toby’s unreasonably tall body.  I was too tired from my last trip I to go all the way up to his neck, so decided to bite him on the arm instead.  This time I was able to accomplish more of my goal, and I transmitted my essence into Toby before Mom could flush me.  It was like a Vulcan Mind Meld but with tick spit.

From then on, Toby and I became the same being.  We are a perfect blend of our two personalities.  He has started doing things that I used to do – things that he never saw, but now he knows intimately.  He is also still the impish little rascal he has always been – the little boy who likes ear scratches and hugs.

Cairn terrier sleeps on blanket on the floor.

When Toby and I lived together, he liked to sleep in his kennel while I preferred to sleep in Mom’s room.  As  soon as I left, Toby took my spot.  He doesn’t know how happy it makes Mom to have him there.  I do.  That’s why I told him to do it.