I'm standing in my kitchen at 5:47 AM watching Ruby try to walk.
My lab. My adventure buddy. The dog who's been on every bushwalk with me for the last four years.
Her back legs are wobbling. She can't hold her head up properly.
Paralysis tick.
The emergency vet said if I'd waited another two hours, we'd be having a very different conversation.
I gave Ruby her tick meds every single month, thinking I was doing everything right.
Turns out I had no idea how any of it actually worked.
And that almost killed her.
I'm one of those people who lives for the outdoors. On weekends, Ruby and I are gone, hitting all the bush tracks around NSW.
No suburban footpaths. Real wilderness.
But we live in paralysis tick territory.
Every dog owner around here knows the horror stories. My neighbor's Kelpie died from a tick bite. Another friend's dog spent five days in ICU.
So I was religious about Ruby's protection. Set phone reminders. Never forgot her monthly chew.
And it worked... sort of.
We'd come back from bushwalks and I'd still find ticks on her sometimes. But they were dying or already dead, so I figured the medication was doing its job.
But somehow, this one stubborn tick managed to survive.
I rushed her to the emergency vet. My hands were shaking the entire way.
But the damage was already done.
"The toxin's already in her system," my vet said. "We need to start treatment immediately."
Ruby spent three days in intensive care. Anti-toxin injections. IV fluids. Round-the-clock monitoring.
The vet said the next 72 hours would tell us if she'd make it.
I kept asking: how did this happen? She was on medication, why wasn't she protected?
Nobody gave me a clear answer.
Thank God, my fur baby survived.
By day three, she started eating again. By day five, she could walk. We brought her home after a week.
The bill was $3,800.
But I would've paid ten times that.
After this, I was too scared to take her out again.
We stuck to paved paths. I did full body checks three times a day. I was terrified every time we walked past long grass.
Ruby would sit at the door in the mornings looking at her lead. She didn't understand why we weren't going.
I was choosing between her safety and her happiness.
And I hated every second of it.