Good morning Everyone!
Have you every noticed how there are hierarchies all around us? A simple example is standing in line – The first person in line goes first, the second person gets to go next, etc. And there are even a few of us who will, on occasion, step forward to correct a person who dares to challenge the hierarchy by cutting in line. Such an event follows the principle of proportional palatability – the chances of being corrected, and the violence used in said correction are directly proportional to the amount of time spent in line and the importance of the item the line is for. The same chances are indirectly proportional to the palatability to the group psyche of someone barging in front of everyone else.
At our house, we have hierarchies too. This morning the Priesthood of the Disposal of Unwanted Critters was called to action.
The first and foremost High Priest of the Disposal of Unwanted Critters is Mark. If he is home, the hierarchy stops there. I’m not sure where the rule is set out – in the United States Code, the Code of Alabama, the Eleventh Commandment, the United Nations Charter or the Code of Hammurabi – but somewhere it says that the male of the house shall remove all unwanted critters, dead or alive, from the household if he is at home. It makes perfect sense to me and Kayla, although Mark may not agree. Unfortunately, unwanted critters are notoriously inconsiderate, and they do appear when Mark is not around.
When it comes to killing and removing spiders and roaches, I become the High Priestess of the Unwanted Critter Department. And I hate killing spiders and roaches – not because I think they deserve to live in peace, but because deep down I know that at any minute they can grow taller than a house and kill me along with all that I love or, even worse, actually fly (roach) or run (spider) on me. I was over 40 before I ever killed either a roach or a spider – and that was only out of desperation because Kayla and I were alone.
As High Priestess, it is my privilege to delegate certain removal tasks, and Kayla is in charge of the Removal of Birds Killed by the Dogs. We had such an incident this morning – I let Darwin and Mandy out, and they both shot over to the far corner of the deck, where I heard a scuffle that lasted about 1/2 second. I called both of them back sharply. Darwin arrived with a feather hanging from his lip (commonly known in criminal justice circles as a smoking gun), and Mandy trotted up afterwards. The poor mocking-bird that had, alas, strayed from its normal habitat was lying on its back with its feet straight up in the classical dead bird pose. Kayla showed up right afterwards, having heard the scuffle, and performed her duties as Head Acolyte competently and thoroughly.
I was kind of shivering with the willies, and asked her what we were going to do with the bird. She kind of rolled her eyes, then told me to get her some paper towels. Taking the paper towels, she gently lifted the bird and placed it in the dumpster, after not so gently admonishing both dogs about killing the bird. Neither dog was particularly upset by being admonished, which is on par with most canine corrections that involve any member of the Priesthood besides Mark. (And yes, for all grandmothers concerned who may read this, I did have her wash her hands extremely thoroughly after she came back in, paper towel or no.)
And that was the excitement at our house this morning! Anything happen interesting at yours?
Have a great day!
Hate to kill spiders, unless you know enough to be sure they’re dangerous. Most aren’t, and they do so much good in our environment. I know lots of people have–what is it?–arachnophobia? But can’t you use a newspaper or paper towel to usher the poor fellow outdoors. As for the dead bird, I call the line. I once called a neighbor to get a dead rat, later learned from his wife that he’s the squeamish one in the family.
Intellectually, I understand your point perfectly; at an instinctual level, however, the spiders will continue to be killed if they make themselves visible inside the house. The best I can offer is that I do not TRY to find them! Thank you for stopping by!
Nancy, this gave me a good, well needed, chuckle. Our house hold is the same. My husband is always in charge of removal and disposal. I have two grown sons who were and still are fearful of critters. One, it’s spiders. We are talking scream like a girl, stand on the furniture scared. The other son, it’s crickets that send him running. I can’t stand either but learned a long time ago to pretend it’s no big deal, let my husband take care of it while on the inside I’m standing on the furniture and screaming like a girl!
Thanks for the after lunch laugh.
That is hysterical! I do sympathize with your second son about the crickets, though – I had a melt down over one in my room the summer between 10th and 11th grade! And if you can’t find the cricket, it’s even worse – it keeps chirping and chirping and chirping and chirping…. It’s worse than a smoke alarm with the battery going out!
The man should have to kill the bug. – – Suzanne Sugarbaker
Hubby won’t touch dead things or remove critters. I’m in charge of all that. For spiders, I catch them in an old margarine tub and take them outside. It’s not hard! One house, 2 houses ago, had an infestation in the room I used for my office (the dining room, really), so I kept the plastic tub on my desk–and used it a lot!
That’s a really clever solution!
Just had to chance a giant roach around the tub because I refused to shower with him in there. The sides were so slippery he couldn’t get out.
A wad of toilet paper and I triumphed. Nice start to a busy morning.
I am VERY impressed!
Pest eradication can create some interesting situations. We have friends that live in a 120 year old ranch house. South central Florida is blessed with an abundance of wildlife, much of it good, some not so much. The old house is a historic site, can’t be radically renovated, and the rate for needed repairs exceeds the rate repairs can be made. Our friends problem – a super abundance of mice and rats. The pests entered as they pleased. They complained about them for years then seemed to have found a solution because they became silent on the problem. My humans found the answer on a recent visit. Mrs. G opened the door to the guest room closet and a five foot snake crawled out. After the screaming stopped the owners explained the yellow and brown stripped critter was their “externminator”. Didn’t make Mrs. G feel good about sleeping in that room. Glad the car seat reclines.
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