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.
Pidge
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
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
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…
No comments:
Post a Comment