Sandy the Cat was feeling friendly. He hopped on the couch and stretched out next to me. Sandy is cool. He knows just when to bug you and when to leave you alone. Today he decided not to walk across my keyboard and cause me to type hl'sl dhlhh se0n.kld shoofd. Thank you, Sandy.
As he settled into his corner of the couch he performed his usual Lick Routine, which I take particular care NOT to watch, and then gave a huge yawn.
That's when I saw the Spot.
Sandy doesn't have spots. Sandy is an orange, short haired cat with no spots. A few stripes maybe, but no spots. Especially dark, round spots under his chin.
Hmmm, could it be food, or oil or paint? I had to have a look and that's when I discovered the Tick.
Ohh, yuck, a tick! And, oh, man, did it look like a Big Tick. Not my cup of tea, I can tell you. Ticks.
I remember as a kid a family who lived down the street who had a couple of dogs who were always getting into ticks. They would have these great grey lumps sticking out of their fur that their owner would grab and yank. I hated that. Absolutely disgusting.
I've had a few ticks on me in my day and I've been totally freaked out by them. I am not a cool tick person.
So, that left me with poor old Sandy who was becoming anemic by the second as the infamous tick sucked the life blood out of my cat. OK, I've got to do something. I grabbed a paper towel, latched onto Sandy (who was not to happy about this whole affair) and dug into his chin to extract the foul insect.
Grabbing firmly I yanked and got...nothing. Wha? I checked the paper towel and there in my hand was a "tick" only it wasn't a real tick. It was a black piece of gunk that looked like a tick. Of course, I gave it a sniff.
It appears that Sandy had been hanging around the BBQ pit and got some drippings caught in his fur. He only didn't lick it off because his tongue isn't that long!
Not a tick. BBQ sauce.
Yeah, I knew it all along.