Plague of the Ticks Part 2

Last time on the blog . . . (read that in a smoky announcer voice — maybe like Kiefer Sutherland on 24)

I recounted the moments leading up to THE night.

So here we go.

It's still a little hard for me to talk about.

The night we found out about the ticks and thus began the worst couple weeks we've had in a very long time.

We're in the kitchen making dinner. 

I look around and notice there are blood spots all over the kitchen floor.

Hmm.

Maybe Abi's paw is hurt.

Matt checks it.

Nothing.

That's weird.

Where's the blood coming from?

And then, I feel it.

I'm walking to the stove and that feeling you get when step on something and it pops. Yeah.

I had that feeling.

And I heard a pop.

And then there was blood on the floor.

Matt realized she might have ticks.

He takes her outside to look her over.

Comes back saying she has about 20 on her face (hence the blood spots on the sheet where her head was laying).

Wow.

OK.

Sick.

Now what?

We looked around and noticed ticks crawling on the kitchen floor.

Neither one of us had much experience with ticks, so we began researching. 

The more we found out, the more freaked out we became. 

But, being the non-chemical loving, it's-no-big-deal people that we are, we think maybe it'll get better in a day or two.

A day or two later, we realize we were sorely mistaken.

We found ticks on the couches.

Ticks in our bedroom.

On the walls.

On doorframes.

More on Abi.

On the floors.

They were everywhere.

So we bought some natural stuff to kill them and spent an entire night spreading it on Abi and all around the house.

Abi begins living outside.

We think we've taken care of the problem.

A couple days later, still there.

We do more research.

We begin collecting the ticks for research purposes.

And because the way to remove and kill ticks is by using tweezers to drop them into a jar of alcohol.

We begin tick hunting.

It becomes like a full-time job.

I would yell "TICK!" and Matt would come with the tweezers and take care of the problem.

We checked Abi and looked for ticks multiple times a day.

We combed through each other's hair like monkeys.

Every night before bed, making sure all the ticks we see are gone.

Praying no ticks get on us.

Checking the couches every time we sit down.

Checking the floor before walking across it.

We asked around to see who else might've had a tick problem.

No one, really.

They all sprayed for ticks and already had their dogs on tick repellant.

Good to know. 

So, we call the vet.

He looks at our tick jar and hears our plight and advises that we be aggressive in getting rid of them with an infestation as bad as ours.

That was on Monday.

Monday afternoon, we go out and get bug bombs, yard spray, yard granules, Frontline and devise our strategy.

Tuesday morning.

Matt took off work.

We pack up the car with things we don't want to have bombed, set up six bug bombs and leave the house for 2 hours.

We alternate between praying that the house would and would not blow up.

We head home.

The house did not explode.

We opened the windows and left for another half hour. 

We sat in the driveway waiting for the house to air out.

Then the real work began.

On the box for the bug bombs, it advises that you cover all food, dishes, prep items, etc.

But we had to leave the cabinet doors open.

Which meant we had a lot of dishwashing to do.

While Matt mowed and sprayed and granualized the outside, I cleaned pesticide off of everything we owned.

Matt cleaned out the car and sprayed it with a natural tick spray since Abi was in the car for so long.

As a side note, our car still smells. Originally, it smelled like Fall harvest spices. Now it smells like bubble gum. I think every Fall I will have the urge to vomit.

We worked for 12 hours.

I was finding dead ticks and other insects everywhere.

It had worked.

We wanted to celebrate. 

Instead we went to bed.

Next day.

I'm sitting in the living room and look over and notice something crawling on the floor.

It's a tick.

Seriously?!?!

Maybe it's just a fluke tick.

Maybe it traveled inside on Matt.

I check our bedroom.

Three more live ticks.

That's when I wanted to cry. 

When I realized we should've sold the house or blown it up.

More research.

People began praying for our tick situation.

They must've been hiding under the baseboards when the bombs went off.

We go buy a natural spray for the baseboards and spend another three hours (and three trips to Lowe's for more spray) trying to remedy our problem.

We performed experiments on live ones we found to see if the spray killed them. 

It did.

We felt good.

We sprayed around every window, outlet, baseboard, crack and rug where the ticks might've been hiding.

Emptied closets.

The house we cleaned for 12 hours was again a wreck.

The spray had a wintergreen smell. It's very strong. We opened the windows. 

Then we wait.

We left the spray everywhere for two full days.

Two days later, we realize we need to get the oily, filthy residue off the walls and floor.

In the process of getting it off the floor, we pull back the edges of the rugs and move the furniture.

We cleaned everywhere.

And then we found them.

SIX different piles of tick eggs.

In the living room and in our bedroom.

By our bed.

Where I sleep.

I wanted to vomit all over again.

Some looked old.

Some looked fresh.

SIX PILES.

Next to each pile was a dead "pregnant" tick that looked just like the one that we saw in the very beginning. Kinda ironic.

We've learned a lot about tick habits and tick qualities over the last few weeks. One of their not so endearing qualities is that the eggs won't die from pesticides. They have to be disposed of or they'll hatch.

We pick up all the eggs and dispose of them. 

As another side note, every time we threw something like that away, or vacuumed or swept, we had to take out the trash and spray the vacuum and the broom and everything down to kill anything that might've latched on or survived.

We clean the house for another three hours.

We feel like we did the best we can do.

Unless they're living in the upholstered furniture (which they can) or laid eggs under the baseboards (which they can), we felt like we put an end to the infestation.

Next day.

I'm in the bathroom.

I call Matt in.

What's that bug?

He picks it up.

It's a live tick.

No joke.

One live tick just sitting there.

AND that's where I'll leave you until next time.

In part 3 of my installment, I'll cover what happened next, where we are today and what we've learned. 

You won't want to miss it.