tight as a tick

Around here, it is not a cliché; it's a lifestyle.

The weather at the beach has begun to warm up. That usually means we have gone from hot to hotter. But not for the past month.

Even though our days have wandered into the 80s, and even the occasional 90s, our nights have been Mary Poppinish -- practically perfect in every way. Mainly in the 60s. It is almost as good as an Oregon summer night.

But that has been changing this week. Both the temperatures and humidity have been heading toward New Orleans levels.

As a new dog owner, I have learned that more heat means more ticks. Yesterday I discovered my cute little golden retriever was surreptitiously running his own science project. Instead of an ant farm, he had opened a tick ranch.

I never had problems with ticks bothering Professor Jiggs. Probably because our area of Salem was far too urbane for hayseed ticks.

But I now live in hayseed city. Between the goat lot across the street from our house and the soccer field in the sports park, Barco lives in a target rich environment for ticks.

For the past three months, I have religiously doused Barco with Frontline -- a flea and tick chemical concoction that is touted for its great parasite defense. Well, this month, the good folks at Merial failed in their primary mission. It turns out that Frontline was the Maginot line of tick defense.

I added an additional dose today. At $370 (Mx) (about $21 (US)), it is a bargain. If it works.

I had to pick another crop of ticks out of his thick fur tonight. By tomorrow, we should start finding the carcasses of ticks that have ticked off by devouring too much poison. Or so goes the prevention spiel.

It may not be as good as the laguna's offerings of crocodiles, crabs, and coatimundis, but the new house has its own menagerie of fauna.

Frankly, I prefer the crocodiles.