Martha welcomed her next patient: Buck, a sturdy hound dog with drooping ears and tired eyes. His owner—a rugged hunter in a camo jacket—followed closely behind, concern etched across his face.
“Dr. Martha, Buck hasn’t been himself since we got back from the hunt,” the man said, shaking his head. “Usually, he’s full of energy, but now he’s just been acting off. Thought I’d better bring him in to see what’s wrong.”
Martha knelt to examine Buck, who sat heavily on the floor with a long sigh. His tail thumped weakly against the tile as he gazed up at her, his weary eyes silently pleading for help.
“Don’t worry,” Martha said warmly. “I’ll figure this out.”
She decided to use her powers to help rejuvenate Buck. A quick swap of his head with something calmer—like a cat’s—might balance his energy and perk him up. She focused her tingling fingers, preparing to make the swap.
What she didn’t notice was the small dog tick burrowed into Buck’s fur near his shoulder.
The crackling energy surged through the room in a bright flash of light. When the glow faded, Martha gasped at the unintended result.
Instead of a cat’s head, Bucks body now had the oversized head of a dog tick. The tick’s glossy, reddish-brown, flattened head twitched awkwardly, its mandibles clicking noisily as a steady stream of drool dripped onto the floor. Its large, compound eyes darted in different directions, and its proboscis extended and retracted as it explored its surroundings with grotesque enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, Buck’s head—shrunk to match the tick’s tiny body—was scuttling across the floor in frantic, erratic movements. His floppy ears twitched against his miniature frame, and his high-pitched, panicked barks echoed faintly through the exam room.
The hunter crouched down and spotted the tiny, barking Buck on the floor. His eyes widened in realization. “Ahh, damn tick!” he exclaimed, pointing at the tiny dog-headed creature. “No wonder Buck’s been acting weird!”
Before the hunter could stomp on the tiny creature, Martha acted quickly. She scooped up the dog-headed tick just as the hunter raised his boot, placing the tiny, barking Buck into a glass jar on her desk.
“I’ll study this later,” she muttered, screwing the lid on tightly as Buck’s miniature head continued to let out faint, confused barks from inside the jar.
The hunter stood up and stared at Buck’s large, drooling, tick-headed form. The tick’s proboscis extended again, inching toward the hunter’s arm as if instinctively seeking a place to feed.
“Knock it off, Buck!” the hunter said, swatting the proboscis away as though it were nothing more than a pesky habit. He clipped the leash onto the tick-headed dog and shrugged. “Thanks, Dr. Martha. Guess he just needs to work this out of his system.”
“Of course,” Martha replied, forcing a tight smile as she watched the hunter walk out with his tick-headed dog in tow. The dog stumbled slightly, its massive tick head wobbling awkwardly as it drooled and swayed.
Once the door closed, Martha turned her attention to the jar on her desk. Inside, the tiny dog-headed tick scuttled helplessly, its small legs twitching as Buck’s miniaturized head gazed up at her with wide, confused eyes.
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