Fifteen years ago, I attended a conference about ticks presented by Dr. Susan Little, one of the country's top authorities on veterinary parasitology. I had been practicing on the Vineyard for a quarter-century, and considered myself well-versed in ticks and tick-borne diseases. I routinely counseled pet owners on products to repel and kill ticks, and how to minimize exposure. In those days I might say, "It's worse on Chappy and in Chilmark. Avoid Cedar Tree Neck in the shoulder seasons." I encouraged Lyme vaccination, and advised total-body tick checks for pets daily. So I was feeling a little blasé while listening to the lectures.

Then Dr. Little showed a video. I think the person in the film was her husband. They were hiking somewhere down south. Maybe Alabama. He wore blue jeans and hiking boots. And there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny ticks swarming -- yes, swarming -- up his legs. I sat straight up in my chair. Ticks didn't run like this. Ticks hung out lazily in beach grass or forest brush, and waited for you and shaggy dog to stroll by. Not these ticks. These were lone star Ticks. "Thank God we don't have those on the Island," I thought. Jinx.

the lone star tick, Amblyomma americanum, has a typical four-stage life cycle -- egg, six-legged larva, eight-legged nymph, eight-legged adult. Female adults are easily identified by the yellowish-white spot in the middle of their backs. In New England, adults are most active April through August, and usually feed on big animals like dogs, deer, and people. Nymphs and larvae stay active well into October. According to the University of Rhode Island Tick Encounter page, "Nymph stages ... latch on to hosts from shoe to shin level -- but they crawl fast so that by the time you might notice them, they're already waist-high ... Larvae typically latch on by the hundreds."

Current research suggests that lone star adults and nymphs can transmit human ehrlichiosis, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, STARI (Southern tick-associated rash illness), and possibly tularemia, but not Lyme disease. The larvae do not transmit these diseases, but their bites can result in a condition most Islanders are now aware of, called alpha-gal syndrome. In humans, this can cause a serious allergy to red meat and dairy products. But it is above my pay grade to talk about human medicine. I'm here to talk about animals, and answer questions I've been getting recently.

Question One: Do dogs and cats get alpha-gal syndrome? No. Here's why. When certain ticks bite, they may inject their victim with a bit of saliva containing a specific sugar molecule called galactose-alpha-1,3-galactose, familiarly known as alpha-gal. Dogs and cats already have alpha-gal molecules naturally occurring in their bodies, so the introduction of more via tick saliva does not provoke any significant reaction from their immune systems. Human beings, and a few other primates, are the only mammals whose bodies do not already have naturally occurring alpha-gal sugar. Thus the human immune system may respond to alpha-gal sugar as a foreign substance, resulting in an allergic reaction. Fortunately, you don't have to worry about Shaggy or Felix getting alpha-gal syndrome and developing meat and dairy allergies.

Question Two: My pet came in from outside with their legs covered in tiny black things. Are these oak mites? No, they are not oak mites. Oak mites are nearly invisible to the naked eye. They blow around off trees in the fall and, in people, tend to cause an upper body rash. The tiny poppy seed-like dots swarming on your pet's legs are lone star larvae. They are visible, albeit very small. I combed one off the leg of a big white dog recently, but had to put it under the microscope to clearly see the six legs and tick body, confirming its identity. (Oak mites have eight legs and a tubular body.)

Question Three: What should I do? First, let's review the basics of parasiticides. (That's the big word for products that kill parasites.) There are two major approaches. Topical surface products or systemic products. Topical surface products stay on the outside of Shaggy's body. In the old days, we used dips and sprays. Dips were labor-intensive and usually lasted only a week or two. Sprays often left Shaggy's coat sticky or smelly. Nowadays most topical parasiticides like Frontline or K-9 Advantix (dogs only!) are "lipotropic," meaning they are applied to the skin on the pet's back, and then spread along the outside of the body via the natural surface oils. Seresto collars work similarly, releasing the parasiticide continuously into that exterior oil layer.

Don't get confused. Not every product applied to a pet's skin is actually a surface product. Some are "systemic" parasiticides. That means they go inside Shaggy's body. Many systemic parasiticides, like the Nexgard, Credelio, or Simparica lines of products are given orally as pills or chewable treats. Others, like Bravecto for cats, are liquid. Applied topically, yes, but then absorbed through the skin into the body. Systemic parasiticides require ticks to bite in order to work to kill them. Which products are best? There is no "one size fits all" answer. There are pros and cons to every option. Sometimes we even recommend using more than one type. Talk to your veterinarian, and tailor your tick control to your specific pet.

Realistically, none of these are going to stop those swarms of baby lone stars. If Shaggy comes in furiously licking his legs, or covered in tiny dots, I recommend donning protective clothing and physically removing them. Use a lint roller or sticky tape. Bathe him with a flea and tick shampoo. Buy one of the old-style flea and tick sprays, and mist his legs before and after walks. Some dog products are toxic to cats, so read all labels closely, and use them appropriately. Finally, avoid areas where your pet has picked up lone star ticks before, both for Shaggy's health and for your own. Sorry I jinxed us. They're heeeerrrreee.