Flossie is a very hairy dog.
At this time of year a vast quantity of her fur distributes itself around my house, despite my meticulous vacuuming. It gets into everything. I find myself checking saucepans before I cook and even my toothbrush before I clean my teeth. You can never be too careful.
When I moved house, a removal man got the fright of his life when he pulled out my fridge-freezer and discovered a huge black, furry ball. It turned out to be a mass of Flossie’s fur that had floated underneath and collected over time.
While her coat is beautiful and often admired, it is also the perfect hiding place for ticks. The little critters are so tiny that they burrow into her thick coat, and because her fur is black as well as fluffy, they are difficult to spot.
I’ve become deft at removing them with my special tick twizzling device. The procedure involves bribing Flossie with some peanut butter to distract her while I swiftly twist off the tick.
Sometimes the first sign of a tick is when one has dropped onto the floor. This is usually at an inopportune moment, like the other day when the plumber was fixing my kitchen tap.
But I have an eye for them. They look like grey peas and this one was boldly perched on the mat by the back door.
I didn’t want to cause concern, so I plucked a tissue from my pocket and swooped down on the tick in one smooth action while he was facing the other way.
Next, my disposal regime kicked in. It’s not nice but it’s necessary. I carried the tissue up to my office where I firmly attached the tick to the tissue with some sellotape. I used more tape than is necessary. Then I threw it in the bin feeling satisfied that it was never going to go anywhere again, least of all into Flossie’s lovely fur.
Brutal, I know, but being a dog owner isn’t always pretty.
As published in the Bath Chronicle, 25 June 2026
Suzy Pope is a certified copywriter and newspaper columnist specialising in pets, business and lifestyle. If you would like help with a writing project, please get in touch.