Tick-Talk

Good news and typical news at my penultimate trip to the Humane Society on Friday: King, Degu, Joey, and Cotton had all been adopted, and Fiffer was in a rent-to-own tryout (a foster family wanted to give him a shot) after four months or so in the fourth kennel on the right. But they had a more filling the holes left behind, unfortunately; "Teddy" said they got a new batch in from somewhere in Kentucky, to include a pair of malnourished mastiffs with wounded skin (but happy tails) and a bunch of puppy litters. Bill Nye, Roxy, and Max were new, Jumpin' Ben and sawft Brenda were holdovers from before.

CHEEEEESE!

But another new girl, Star, was a sad case. Never mind the two excre-mounds in her kennel (does ANYONE ever look back here?), she needed some personal attention. Most likely very recently pregnant, her teats looked like an inverted Denver International Airport. Lovely and energetic on her walk, we were stopped by the trees across the street enjoying a nice scritch when I noticed a lump by her collar. I checked and found a tick the size of a corn nut. Pulled that off, knowing there might be another, and found it. And another. And then two more. Decided to do a full search, and ended up yanking nine ticks off of her neck, head, chin, and chest. Walking back to the shelter, she stopped to scratch her head, and located a tenth one for us. Just unbelievable.
Rather than put her back in her cage, I took her to the back hallway to tell an employee about the condition she'd been left in. Found one in scrubs, carrying needles: "Are you the Humane Society vet?" I asked. She laughed. "No. I just work here."
Helpful.
Finally the Second of Command walked down the hall and asked how we were doing. I told her that I had pulled ten ticks off of her. "Yes, I know, we've sprayed them all, but they've come awful fast this year."
"..."
"Eventually they'll die."
And for a second, I thought she meant the dogs.