I try very hard to live harmoniously with all creatures I come in contact with. The bunnies are free to cavort in my yard. I have chipmunks in my drain pipes, squirrels in my barn. Bats in the belfry (you KNEW that was coming).
But I fail miserably when it comes to ticks.
I hate ticks.
I’m not too fond of bugs, period, unlike the Girl, who LOVED them. She says, and it’s true, one of two fool-proof ways to get me to freak out is to come up to me with cupped hands and say “Mom! Look what I got!”
But I’ve gotten to the point where I can capture and release most bugs…. what am I saying? …. I can shriek and wail until Himself captures and releases most creatures …. house flies, spiders, etc.
But not ticks. They are EVERYWHERE now, and I don’t like it one bit.
Just found another one crawling on my grand-cabbage’s quilt that I am finishing up for the baby shower.
The word “compassion” didn’t even enter my mind.