It wouldn't be so bad if they would just stay away from me. But I live in the swamp, where arthropods outnumber humans 5 million to 1. And apparently I emit not only a high-pitched whine that only animals in distress can hear, but also another sound that says, "Hey, arthropods, come over here!"
And poor thin-skinned TB Salem is the same; while his QH/draft-cross neighbor has nary a fly on her, he is getting bitten repeatedly, despite his fly mask/boots/sheet. A few times, it's gotten to the point that he's been kicking his belly, squealing, and rearing because the mosquitoes are biting him relentlessly. I'll stand there and just smack his belly & neck (really the only 2 uncovered places on him), killing mosquito after mosquito, and he'll just stand there like, "Thank you!"
Old Anti-Fly Outfit (that brand-new fly sheet was
very generously donated by a fellow boarder -- how
sweet is that?!)
I think we both need beekeepers' outfits. Of course, Salem is the priority and his has already been ordered, along with three bottles of fly spray (which will last me all of, oh, two weeks).
Then there's Aragog. Ya know, Aragog the giant spider from Harry Potter? Well, he lives in my feed room.
WARNING: Pic of huge gross spider coming up!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm sorry, but that is like half a step down from a tarantula. *shiver* Just typing that word makes me cringe. And not only is he a spider-on-steroids, he is a jumping spider-on-steroids. And ya know what's worse than walking into the feed room and seeing him? Walking into the feed room and not seeing him. Because then you just know that he's hiding, probably somewhere above your head, and he's planning to ambush you and get revenge for all of the spiders that you have mercilessly smooshed in your lifetime.
OK, so let's review the evidence of the arthropods' attacks. Over the last few weeks:
~ # of roaches I have seen: 40 kajillion
~ # of roaches that have been ON me: 3
~ # of times I've gotten into the car after being @ the barn, started driving away, felt something move in my hair, felt my head, realized there was some kind of giant bug in my hair, and began frantically clawing at my hair in an attempt to remove said bug, all while shrieking/squealing/swerving around erratically and nearly driving off the road: 2
~ # of mosquito bites that I have: Innumerous. Seriously. I've been wearing long sleeves whenever I'm out in public because I look like I have chicken pox/leprosy/flesh-eating bacteria skin rot of death.
~ # of times Aragog/Son-of-Aragog has tried to attack me: 4 (that I know of)
This means war!