Blood Suckers
by , 05-18-2010 at 10:37 AM (2764 Views)
One of my favorite authors, Edward Abbey, wrote that if re-incarnation were possible, he'd like to come back to earth as a turkey vulture:
Silent. Aloof. And does the dirty work. "Let us praise the noble turkey vulture: No one envies him; he harms nobody; and he contemplates our little world from a most serene and noble height" Abbey wrote.
Well, it's late spring here the American north. And to me that means one thing before all others blood suckers: ticks, mosquitoes, deer flies, leeches. . . Just the other day I had pull a wood tick from the back of my daughter's neck.
They're ugly suckers:
.
It had lodged into her skin and was starting to siphon her O-. If I'd let it stay there, it could morph from the size of a sesame seed to the size of a small grape. I flushed the little guy down the potty after I used a pair of tweezers to pluck it out of her skin.
Later that day I picked off a deer tick from my other daughter. Luckily, it hadn't dug in yet. They spread Lyme disease, which is nasty.
Here's one of those creepy crawlies:
Coming into work today, as I walked from my car to my office, I swatted a mosquito on my shirt and smeared a dab of my own blood over my sleeve.
And pretty soon, we'll start to swim in the lakes and rivers around our place. And eventually, either me, my wife, or my kids will have pull one of these aquatic suckers from our skin:
Usually, if you pull 'em off quickly, it doesn't hurt too much.
Here's the thing -- if reincarnation does exist, I think I'd like to come back as one of these blood suckers. There's poetry in their existence. And tragedy too: they're despised because they seek to bond with another. They don't ask too much, yet we kill them with a perverse pleasure that we wouldn't take with almost any other kill that we make. It doesn't sound like a glamorous life, being a wood tick, but I'd like to give it a try.
The courage of risking notice and death, the courage of clinging to something as violent and massive as we must be to them (sort of like us trying to stick to a T-Rex and in the process piss it off). . . . This Pabst is for you, brave little tick! Next time I see you, I'll be sure to revere you for a second or two before I crush you between my fingernails!
What? You thought this blog was going to be about vampires?




.

