In the past ten years I’ve lived with many different people. Some I’ve got along great with while others are on the blocked list on Facebook. Living with people can be a challenge. I fully accept fault in all my living scenarios where it is due. For those of you reading who I’ve lived with and nagged at for leaving bread crumbs on the counter (Cody), or nearly ended our friendship by bringing my cat into our home (Miss), or piled loads of boxes in the entry way for long periods of time (Jess), know that I’m now receiving my pay back.
Meet my roommates of 2012…
Rascal the Rat
He makes all sorts of noise at night and has eaten through my screen door. Before I had the chance to see him, I tried to kill him by putting poison on peanut butter. His brother, Wilfred, got to it first and was removed with a shovel from my backyard. Whenever I see Rascal defenselessly huddled underneath my bed outside I feel terribly sorry for killing his brother. I just wish there was some way I could let him know that it is not okay to eat through my door.
Like Wilfred, Pidge is now in a better place, but I didn’t murder her. In fact, I did all I could to make her last moments more comfortable. I stepped out in my backyard to find her on my porch. I was within two feet of her and she didn’t fly away, which instantly led me to believe something was wrong with her. I brought out a plate of water and as I stepped inside she hopped slowly over, soaked her feet, and took a drink. I watched as she blinked slowly at me in what seemed to be a thank you. As the day went on I continued to check on her and found she had settled in her resting place. Her neck dropped, and soon she laid completely on her side. I asked for the shovel once again and handed her over to my father. May her sweet little soul rest in peace.
My hatred for my following roommates matches Harry Potter’s hatred for He Who Shall Not Be Named. These things attack by the millions at night and burrow in dark places. They crossed the line when they started entering into my bed net. I’ve been at war with them for the past month and am hoping they move out for good when cold season comes.
Teddy the Toad was cute and I liked him. He was fighting the good fight by eating Those Who Shall Not Be Named. Unfortunately, Teddy got caught in crossfire. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time when BOP insecticide filled the room and his lungs. I’ll admit that it was my finger that released the spray, but I’d like Teddy and all of his loved ones to know that I had no intentions of hurting him. Had I known he was there, I would have saved him.
Batty isn’t pictured, however I do have his voice on video. Batty enjoys waking me up with shrill sounds at 2:30 in the morning. He’s the least favorite of my roommates, but I find his shrill noises only happen when his home has been disturbed. Thus, he does his thing and I do mine. However, he does throw in an occasional dive bomb in the backyard every now and then to let me know who is boss. I usually let out a curse word or two and retreat inside, acknowledging the hierarchy.
The Brat Pack is a group of lizards that don’t receive individual names because there are far too many of them. They think they own my backyard, yet run every time I come anywhere near them. They pull pranks now and then by jumping down to my feet from the roof and scattering about. This, I don’t believe is payback for encounters with previous roommates, but for the time when I was 8 or so and my mom brought her boyfriend over for the 4th. I threw snaps at his feet instructing him to dance. When the brat pack pulls their pranks, I dance just like he did and let out a tune as well. Guess they’re not the only brats…