i should not complain, i know that a lot of people have worse summer bugs, in fact i’ll admit that i have it easy. yet still i complain. i am an extremely bugphobic person (not sure the exact technical term there). i hate bugs.
first i hate the fleas that love the warm weather. apparently we have tough, super-fleas that enjoy living in the cozy nest of borax crystals that is our carpet. the cat’s fine now, but they don’t have advantage for people, so we’re still suffering.
then there was the freaky bug that scared me and kurtwood the other night. a big long bug, wasp-like in body type but the color was a luminous red. chris swore that wasn’t a stinger as he captured it and tossed it outside, but what else would a big probe-like thing protruding from a big red bug’s butt be? i ask you.
and then there are the june bugs. the june bugs are cool in that they know when it’s june, and they come out right on schedule. i’m not sure what they look like (i don’t go outside much at night) i think they’re kind of orangey-brown. all i ever really see of them is in cat puke. kitty loves the june bugs. every summer night he complains and complains till we let him out, because apparently june bugs are just as fascinating as can be, if you like to chase and pounce on things that jump and flutter. oh, he’s a big bad june bug hunter, our kitty. but you’d think that after enough time it would occur to kitty that the consequences of eating junebugs is throwing them up? you’d think that enough of this negative, uh, feedback would teach him. but no.
then again, that’s not such unusual behavior. my kitty needs to go to some june bug anonymous meetings, i think.