The Fantastic Mr. Foxtail
I have a love-hate relationship with foxtails. On the one hand, they are nasty. Little sharp spiky pieces of grass material with tiny microscopic retrograde barbs that cause them to migrate on a one-way trip into yucksville, they like nothing better than to jump onto a dog’s fur and burrow into just about any orifice they can find. I’ve pulled them from eyes, ears, noses, tonsils, toes, vulvas, prepuces, teeth- you name a surface, I’ve seen a foxtail in it.
On the other hand, they sure do keep us in business during the summer months.
Today’s schedule looked fairly light when I arrived this morning: a couple of neuters, a couple of dental cleanings, vaccinations, a cough, that sort of thing.
Then the calls started coming in. We’ve had beautiful weather the past few days, meaning lots of clients have been taking their pets outside to enjoy it. And then the sneezing/ head shaking/ paw licking starts.
Today’s tally:
2 from ears
2 from paws
1 suspected migrated through an eardrum
1 up the nose
And then- the motherlode.
A poor sweet little puppy abandoned on the side of the road and picked up by a good samaritan. Covered, and I do mean covered like a porcupine, in these buggers. We lost count after 50, and she sat, patiently letting us pull all of them out.
None of us are immune. I do battle with foxtails every day, walking the yard and cursing them into oblivion on a regular basis, and cursing even louder my neighbors who never cut theirs down, thus leading to constant reinfestation.
Koa was supposed to join Brody in day care in celebration of his birthday. Instead? She became Foxtail-In-Paw Numero Dos, anesthetized, probed, and de-foxtailed. Poor kiddo. If you live in an area without them, be glad. Very glad.
