All was beautiful in my garden this weekend. Until yesterday. Yesterday, it was not so.
This morning, Roy fluttered by the monitor looking disheveled and weary. I bade him stop a moment and tell me what was the matter. When he landed on the rim of my coffee cup, I could see that all was not well.
"Roy," said I, "What happened to you? What has become of your cheerful disposition? And what on earth happened to your arm?"
Roy, looking more downcast than I have ever seen him in our entire six day relationship, replied, "Begging your pardon, Miss, but it is not an arm I am missing. In scientific terms, it is a leg I am missing. My left leg," he sobbed, "is... no more."
"What has happened, Roy?"
"Nina, when you agreed to befriend me and keep me as your special companion, I made two promises to you. And I have broken one of them." Here, Roy cowered and hid his face behind his wings.
"Roy," said I. "You didn't."
"Nine," said Roy, "I.... did. I.... have needs."
My peripheral vision is pretty good. I saw her alight from my subwoofer and pirouette in front of my monitor before landing next to Roy.
"This," said Roy, "is she."
Cordelia, clearly not one to be discussed as if she is not in the room, replied, "He most certainly did. And you, what is your, eh, name, Nina, is it? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find decent husbands in a house with no fruit and no male Drosophilia? The swarm was teaming with available males. But now I am reduced to this??" she gestured to Roy.
Roy curled up into a ball and started to cry.
"Cordelia, - " I began.
"Call me Delia, please."
"Delia, did you rip Roy's arm - er - his leg off?"
"He is a terrible provider, and worse, he is terrible in bed."
Roy cried harder. Delia ripped off his other leg and started whipping around her head like a helicopter blade. I can't say I much cared for the girl-fly.
"Delia," said I, "exactly whose bed are you talking about? And more to the point, have you and Roy been breeding?"
No sooner did I utter these words when fluttered into my view....
Now, what I know you are not surprised. Why should you be? Y'all knew when I agreed to let Roy stay that he would behave just like a man and start chasing tail. And that is exactly what he did and now I am forced to contend with a small family of these little bastards. (Oh, stop it. You know I am not going to kill them. They are a family.)
My solution is none too palatable to them, but it had to be done.
I packed them a lunch, ushered them into my backpack, and set them free next to a swarm of common houseflies feasting on a moldy donut in Central Park. They thanked me, of course, for sparing their lives, but remarked that it was a damp, chill night to be out among strangers. But the houseflies welcomed them and I left all, I believe, better for the experience.
Except, I am sorry to say, Cat-head, who misses his mite swatting partner. *
Have a fly-free Monday.
*last post about household pests. I swear it. I have work to do and I have to write tomorrow's post and I did have to go to a lot of trouble over these little bastards, so I was pressed for time today.