A few weeks ago, I was out in the backyard battling my ancient, wheezy old lawnmower when something happened that made my skin crawl—literally.
My golden retriever, Mochi, was stretched out under our big oak tree, basking in the shade while I pushed along in the heat, when I suddenly felt that unmistakable itchy-crawly sensation on my ankle. At first, I assumed it was just another mosquito bite, nothing unusual. But when I glanced down, my stomach dropped.
It wasn’t a mosquito. It was a tick. And not just any tick—it was a lone star tick, with its creepy little white dot staring right back at me.