I found four dog ticks crawling up my legs yesterday. This was a first for me within the bounds of the city. I was at Four Sparrow Marsh on the edge of Brooklyn. (My companion, on the other ankle, found none; maybe because of her wellies or her press pass.)
As you can tell from these posts, I find animals fascinating. Slugs to seals. The creepy-crawlies included. While I could very much do without mosquitos, which bite the hell out of me, they don’t freak me out. But ticks really give me the heebie-jeebies. They’re are such excellent vectors, for viruses (Colorado tick fever, etc.), bacteria (Lyme, etc.), and protozoa (babesiosis, etc.). And unlike mosquitos, who quickly harpoon in for some blood, ticks burrow in and suck until they look like they are about to burst. Gross. My mother had Lyme Disease and I’ve pulled more than few blood-bloated ones out of pet dogs and myself; Nantucket, where I graduated from high school, is Tick Central, although the local Chamber of Commerce would rather you didn’t think about that.
As it develops, three species of ticks are known to be in the city.
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