Nibblers

Hello. It’s me!

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Here’s the 411 … when it is 109 degrees out and my little feet can be scorched by hot surfaces, something has to give. That something, of course, is Dad driving me to grass to perform my late-afternoon duties.

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So I finish browsing my Reader’s Digest and next thing you know Dad is hopping around like a mad man, scratching his ankle. The conversation goes something like this:

Dad: Ow. OW!

Dash: ‘sup dude?

Dad: They’re going into my sock.

Dash: Huh?

Dad: It’s like they’ve created a highway up my leg.

Dash: By “they” do you mean mini-chupacabras?

Dad: Then they split off. Some keep going up my leg, some go down into my sock. OW! Ow. Jesus.

Dash: Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.

 

Dad: They’re fire ants. This burns!

Dash: I’m outta here.

Dad was being attacked by little nibblers known as fire ants. Or something like a fire ant. It makes for a better story if we take his account at face value, #amirite?

Take a peek.

Fire_ant

I mean, who walks around with six sets of two toes?

I’d bite something if I was born like this.

Needless to say we got the heck outta there.

4 thoughts on “Nibblers

  1. Maybe your dad can get you your very own artificial patch of grass. We use ours when potty training new puppies.
    Love your blog! BTW- did you come from Oak Harbor? You look just like my Houdini cream boy and wonder if he is your cousin. Kathy S/Windox dachshunds is my friend and where Houdini came from on Oak Harbor.

    Like

  2. Yo Dash,

    Soooo you’re sayin’ that your Dad has “ants in his pants” ? Or, that he’s got on “Hot Pants”?
    Or, that maybe Washington State wasn’t too bad after all?
    But thank heaven those “nibblers” didn’t get onto our favorite “Doxie”.
    Gotta be careful in a new environment where you go to “go”;

    Like

  3. Yep ,I remember those pesky Critters and a lot more. I think I’ll stay here on the island where it’s safe from those nasty little nibblers! Remember watch where you park those the little ten toes of yours! Owwwie!!

    Like

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