Attack!

Because Linda is out of town tonight, I was entrusted with the house key and a set of instructions. My first task was to get into the house – easier said than done as I discovered when faced with a dark garage, two keys, two locks and a deadbolt. Thank goodness for the Light app on my iPhone 4!

Relieved to be home, I thought I would check on the dog, Foxy, a 12 year old Pomeranian, who lives mostly outside and is of a somewhat feral temperament. Since I had an offering of turkey scraps, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t attack me. After depositing the scraps in his dish, I returned inside and rebolted the back door. I should mention that literally every door in this house has a lock – even the cupboards. Even though there are 2 to 3 guards also patrolling the barbed wired walled enclosure, for some reason, all of this security makes me feel more vulnerable. Who, exactly, are we being protected from?

As I was leaving the kitchen, I noticed a large winged creature, scooting along the floor. Although I have a strict “live and let live” policy when it comes to Canadian insects, here, I felt stricter measures were called for. After all, I have no idea what an African malaria-bearing mosquito looks like, nor what other venomous creatures are waiting to strike. Admittedly, this bug looked much bigger than a Canadian mosquito, even  the long skeletal females that you see flying along the ceiling every so often, but how could I know for sure?

I found a Time magazine, and, flinching, after several missed swipes, slammed it down on the winged thing.

As I was wiping up the smeary brown debris, I quietly congratulated myself for my newly surfaced hunting instinct.

Just as I was leaving the kitchen again, I saw another one fly along the floor. How odd! I hadn’t noticed it a moment earlier.

Once more, I brandished my magazine and nailed the second insect. I glanced around the room and established it was now insect-free. Victory over the insects was mine!

Upstairs, I doffed my day attire, settled into my nightgown and trotted back to the kitchen to grab dinner - a grilled cheese sandwich (I am still nursing a delicate digestive tract).

I stepped into the light of the kitchen.

HUNDREDS OF THEM!!!!

All I could see was a swarm of those same insects, all flying around in the kitchen – literally a hundred or so - like a scene from the Hitchcock movie, The Birds, only scarier.  I froze in horror – all I could think to do was slam the kitchen door, barricading myself from the horde of wings, beady eyes and fuzzy tentacles.

Could the door just stay closed until Linda’s return?

Reality check. I may be a coward, but I’m also a conscientious house guest.

I thought fast – Linda had mentioned that they had lots of bug spray – where would they keep it? Storage cupboard?

Got it - Raid “Crawling Insect Killer.”

I opened the kitchen door, carefully, and like Dr. Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters, with my can of Raid held high, began squirting insecticide everywhere I could see movement. Within a few seconds, the first casualties were flopping around on the ground, bits of bodies, bits of wings, and what appeared to be larvae. It was horrific. Every time I thought I had downed them all, more seemed to appear. But where were they coming from?

Had I accidentally left the door open when I fed the dog? Unlikely, as I remembered rebolting it – but I checked – secured.

Could the maid have left a window open – I checked, all closed, but through the window I could see more of them – all batting furiously at the outside screens, knocking their own wings off in a frenzy to get inside. To get to me!  To attack! Murderous, blood-lusting beasties!

I stepped back and tried to figure out how they were getting in – ah ha! They were emerging through the crack at the bottom of the door! Quickly, I started shoving paper towel into the gap. As fast as I was cramming it in, a new insect would manage to squeeze itself through – only to be met by a quick spray of Raid, as I stopped shoving and started spraying. They appeared so determined to breach the door, that I added a second layer of paper towel as reinforcement, and even considered piling up some cans, in case, in some Borg-like show of solidarity, they made a team effort and stormed the paper towel.

In the midst of all this, inhaling all the Raid fumes triggered an allergy attack, so I had to keep stopping to Kleenex my nose.

I’m writing this now in the aftermath of the trauma, a cup of hot tea at my side. Memories of the attack and its aftermath (the clean-up) will haunt me forever.

No photo can do justice to the carnage, but here's a peek at the kitchen floor, pre-clean-up - keep in mind that all those bugs were flying around minutes earlier! You can see the start of the paper towel barricade at the door.

And here's a brief video of the outside window, showing the desperate efforts of a few final survivors, to break through into the house. Note the discarded wings scattered about - I think that happened if they were thrusting too hard against the window or something. It added to the horror.