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This morning, I took Dexter to the dog park as usual. Sitting on my favorite rock, alternately watching Dexter do his dog thing and reading a book. Suddenly my middle toe on my left foot felt like it was on fire. Looking down, I saw a yellow and black blur as I started frantically waving my foot.

Once the yellow and black blue disappeared, I inspected my toe, which was throbbing in pain. Sure enough, a tiny needle-like black stinger was protruding from my toe. I plucked it and had a nice red dot for a souvenir.

So that ended the dog park trip as my foot kept hurting. I called Dexter and limped to the car and drove home. At home, I did the typical bug bite remedies – wash the area with soap, swap it with witch hazel, apply cortisone followed by an ice pack.

As the morning eased into the afternoon, my swollen toe soon became my swollen 4 toes and foot. Around 3:00 p.m., I finally broke down and decided to go to the urgent care clinic. The nurse practitioner had no sympathy, despite my protests that my foot was swollen from toe to ankle. Apparently that’s not unusual. She quickly sent me on my way with a prescription of prednisone, which I immediately took.

Normally, I am sympathetic to all creatures. I try not to step on worms after a storm, I avoid the ant hills lest I cause massive ant hill destruction, and I generally leave all spiders alone. So, my dilemma is: should I still feel bad for the bee, which most likely died as a result of opting to sting me? Or can I feel bitter that my day was shot thanks to said bee who caused my inflamed foot. Personally, I am having a hard time feeling sorry for the bee. There I was, doing nothing – not even swinging my legs – and the bee decides to use my middle toe as a pin cushion. And this just didn’t impact me. Poor Dexter has had no fun today. Had to leave the dog park early, no long walk, no play time – just an awful day.

Since my foot is still twinging with pain, I’m going anti-bee today. Maybe tomorrow will be a pro-bee day.