07/06/2026
THE WALK ENDED.
THE SEED KEPT MOVING.
You brought me home from the field.
Happy.
Tired.
Tongue out.
Grass in my coat.
Mud on my paws.
A normal summer walk.
Maybe I shook my ears.
Maybe I licked between my toes.
Maybe I sneezed once, then again, then again.
And maybe you thought:
“He’s just itchy.”
“He’s being fussy.”
“He stepped on something.”
But something had already come home with me.
A dry grass seed.
Small.
Sharp.
Built like a tiny arrow.
It did not bite.
It did not sting.
It did not look dangerous in your hand.
But in my fur, between my toes, inside my ear, near my eye, or up my nose, it had only one direction.
Forward.
The more I moved, the deeper it could go.
The more I licked, the more sore it became.
The more I shook my head, the more pain hid where you could not see.
A seed can turn a walk into a limp.
An ear shake into an infection.
A sneeze into a vet visit.
A tiny thing into a wound that keeps travelling under skin.
So after walks through long grass, check me before the day ends.
Look between my toes.
Lift my ears.
Check my eyes, armpits, chest, belly, and tail.
Brush out the seeds you can see.
But if I keep licking one spot, limp, shake my head, sneeze violently, hold my head to one side, or if there is swelling, discharge, redness, or pain, do not dig blindly.
Call the vet.
Because the walk may be over for you.
But for a grass seed, the journey may have just begun.