When I first moved into the Easy Back Apartment, oh.. about 10 years ago, I was petless. And soon I decided that maybe I was mature enough to handle the responsibility of a pet. But what kind to get? At this point, I did not think it was wise to try to get a cat, as it might pester my allergies. [Obviously, I changed my mind about that.] I was researching what type of pet to get. Bunny? Sugar Glider? Chinchilla? Soon, I noticed a small hive like structure on the roof overhang, over my balcony. It was tiny, and around it buzzed three little bees.
"Hello little bees!"
"bzzzzzz"
"Would you like to live here with me and be my pets?"
"bzzzzz"
"Awesome! I shall name you… Banjo! And you, I am going to name Butrous. No, just the one Butrous, you are too small for a double Butrous. And finally, you shall be… Babaganoush. Because I like saying it, that’s why."
"bzzzz"
For a few weeks, the bees and I lived happily. I would come home from work and great the bees, ask them about their day. The never seemed threatened by me or behaved aggressively. But one day, I came home… and the hive was GONE!! Now, I lived on the top floor, the only way to get onto my balcony was through my apartment, or to crawl down, precariously, from the roof. Of course, the three bees were gone as well. They had been beeknapped. I waited for a ransom note. I never received anything. Some maintenance main probably thought he’d knock down the hive with a broom from the roof or something.
I mourned their loss. And not long after, I got Phoebe the Bunny aka: The B. Just one B.
Dan, I am so happy that you brought up wasps. Because it gives me the opportunity to share with you the audio of one of my favorite people I don’t even know… Eddie Izzard. He shall explain to us the difference between Bees and Wasps. Bees are good. Wasps are fuckers.
Enjoy! I heart Eddie!
Daily Archives: July 27, 2005
Bugs make a fine pet: Spiders
I.
A week or so ago I walked into the bathroom to see a ENORMOUS spider in my bathtub. It was trying it’s 8 legged best to get out, but kept sliding down. Luckily, I had taken a shower the night before. I don’t like spiders. I’ve been fearing them for, oh… as long as I can remember. [side note: have you noticed that spiders are less scary when they are lower than you, like on the bottom of the tub, vs. up higher than you, like the corner of the shower, where they jump down upon your neck, bite you, and kill you dead?] So I did the smart thing.
“Baby Kitty! Pruuuu. Pruuuudence! Baby Kitty! Pruuuuuu!! Help me please!”
It took her about five minutes to amble in, because I had already fed her breakfast, so there was no need for her to pretend that she was obeying me.
“What?” her little kitty face expressed.
“That! Look! No, over here, in the bathtub.. no, not the sink, get over here… never mind, I’ll lift you. See? See the spider? Git it! Go git it!”
To her credit, Pru did stand on the edge of the tub and make her little hunting kitty yips. Then she jumped down into the tub, and proceeded to sit there watching the spider crawl all around her. I told her I wanted it “taken care of” by the time I got home from work.
When I got home, there was the spider, in the bathtub. He was very still, and looked a little peeked. But upon poking at him with a barrette, I found he was just a little worse for wear.
“Pru, what’s up with this? You were supposed to take care of him.”
“hmmm… oh, that’s Nigel. I’m keeping him. He’s fun.”
“You’ve named him Nigel?”
“Yup… we’re only making plans.. . for Nigel.”
Pru hopped down into the tub and started batting Nigel around a bit. I was actually starting to feel sorry for it. She was playing with her food. Brutal.
I came back later to find, unlike some cats, Pru does not eat bugs. She only beats them to death. Slowly. Over several hours. I gave Nigel a water burial.
II.
Currently, I have a little pet spider that lives on, not in, my car. She’s a tiny golden spider I have named Trixie. And she lives around the windshield. Every morning, when I am driving to work, I think that surely she has found somewhere safer to live. But no, she comes crawling out onto the glass, and waves a little leg at me. She’s learned not to get caught up there when I get on the freeway, however. That makes her curl up into a tight little ball. Poor thing. She gets under cover now, when I start to drive fast.
Trixie is free to live on my car, as long as she doesn’t come in, we are good. I kinda like saying “hi!” to her in the mornings.
In the next installment of Bugs Make a Fine Pet, we’ll talk about my three pet bees who were mysteriously beenapped from my porch. Never to return. I still miss them. After that, I’m done with the bugs because I don’t really like them very much.