At least two people in the past 3 days have told me they’re getting chickens.
No, chickens aren’t the latest designer pet. These are attack chickens because we’re in the midst of an all-out war.
At my check-up last week, my doctor recounted how he’d pulled a tick off himself just the day before, and his son had just returned from three days in ICU after the toxin from a tick bite worked its way to the lining of the boy’s heart.
A friend of ours is only recently ambulatory after being bed-ridden with not Lyme disease, but something even worse that could, if not caught in time, have proved fatal.
No chickens gobbling up ticks at our house yet, but it’s beginning to sound like a pretty good idea at my last round of gardening.
Day One - I sprayed the yard with some wholesome, all-natural, non-toxic, but supposedly highly effective tick killer.
Day Two - I put on my jeans, pulled my socks over my pants, rubbed myself with a similar wholesome, all-natural, non-toxic, but supposedly highly effective tick repellent. I spent three hours weeding, and scattering mulch over the freshly weeded beds.
I then showered, brushed my hair, and dressed in a whole new set of clothes. The rest of my day was spent napping, walking Mamie in the center of town, and later using the blower to clean the deck and back patio.
Some TV, dinner, and more TV.
At about 9:30 I ran my hand through the back of my hair and found something foreign. I dropped it on the table next to me, didn't like the look of it, and mashed it with a coaster. I then took it to the sink and ran water over it and returned to the living room, job done.
Fifteen minutes later, I got up for a snack and found a tick walking around on the counter next to the sink.
Forget about that old saw of cockroaches surviving Armageddon.Ticks will be the last thing standing.