Attack!

For those of you who are expecting a Nyxie story from the "Attack" title, you'll be disappointed. She hasn't hurt a fly. In fact, she made friends with a little bird on the deck railing this morning. I think they're now BFF.

The attack I'm referring to was a made by evil little red minions of satan. Yup - red ants. The South is chock full of dastardly creatures ready to bite and suck out your very living essence. Biting flies, red ants, fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, wasps, yellow jackets, tarantulas, brown recluses, black widows - I'm sure I'm leaving out plenty, but you get the idea. The Southern outdoors can be a formidably hostile place.

Now imagine not having the tactical use of indoor plumbing - meaning all your bodily expressions are meant for the outdoors. Such is the sad fate of our dogs.

We took the girls out for a potty break first thing on Sunday morning. Danger seemed at a minimum. (warning- potty scene coming in 3..2..1...) Both Arwen and Nyxie evacuated their bowels and we brought them back inside after some sniffing and wandering about. I stretched myself out on the bed as this was clearly a lot of activity for a Sunday morning and invited Miss Arwen onto the bed for a belly scratch and snuggle. Matt stretched out next to us and scratched her between the ears, one of her favorite spots. I noticed some flecks of dirt on her snow-white paws and started picking at them, thinking she had tracked some mud into the house.

The mud started moving.

"Oh my god!! They're red ants!! Matt get her off the bed !!"

There were a ton of red ants swarming all over her left paw. (ok - by a "ton" I mean about 20, but they feel like a "ton" when they're on your bed!) They were trying desperately to bite through her polar armor with what I can only imagine was no luck - she never reacted like I do when attacked by red ants. My standard response - hop around on the unbitten foot, curse like a hood-rat and smack the hell out of the foot on fire. Poor kid got scooped up and taken into the bathroom where I soaked her paw in cold water. Those little bastards never saw it coming. And Arwen was not impressed.

"You know how much I hate water! You've finally lost your mind!"

She was pretty good, though - wriggling only a little bit. I think she was enjoying being carried around by Dad, and being taller than Nyxie for the first time in 2 and a half years. The Evil Minions writhed helplessly until they were all washed down the drain. HA! Vanquished by modern plumbing. How dare they attack Arwen? This battle was won, but the war wages on. Why do people live here?