Unwelcome. Let’s Freak Out!

I’m a relatively even-keeled person. Although I like to be in control, I am usually OK with seeing where the day takes us. When unexpected things happen, I am one to take stock, quickly assess where we need to go, and make plans to get busy with it. Resolve the situation. Obviously, some things upset me and rattle me, but most would say that I handle pressure well and work towards solutions that help overcome life’s bumps and bruises. I make do, figure it out, carry on, make progress. I maintain my composure.

As my husband Rob tenderly says, I am like a plow mule forging ahead, calmly getting the job done. Thanks, honey. You are too kind.

Sometimes, however, I completely lose it. I’m ashamed to say that some of my grown kids recently saw me lose it, in vivid technicolor. But, in my defense, it wasn’t a regular everyday annoyance that threw me over the edge. It was an annoyance of the creepy crawly Periplaneta Americana kind. A huge terrifying mission-oriented Palmetto Bug Cockroach. Whose mission was to scare the living b’gee-bees out of me. And, not one, but two of those horrific guys stalked me in my own home.

As I went about my daily day, I was suddenly confronted by the first guerrilla warrior. I let lose a scream that is still suspended in the atmosphere.  As far as we know it is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan. (No, I don’t live near Lake Michigan. I was hoping there might be a few fans of the movie The Christmas Story out there?)  

During the surprise attack ruckus, my daughter, who had just stopped by the house to pick something up, said, “Mom, I can’t take care of it. I’m in a hurry, and I have to go.” At the top of my lungs, as my whole body squirmed, I screamed,

“youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!youHAVEto!.....”, I don’t know, like thirty times in quick succession.

She sighed and grabbed a can of bug spray and clocked that sucker. Only, she didn’t have time to clean up the mess and wipe the residual bug spray, so she “cloched” the corpse with a plastic disposable cup and said that she would tend to it when she got back home. To protect the family pets from the chemicals pooled on the floor, I draped a throw blanket across the crime scene and left the room.  Less than 24 hours later, the deceased’s disgusting brother came at me in another room.  This time, enough family members were around that he was dealt a swift and decisive death. My panicked reaction for both of those encounters was not pretty. Irrational fear? Yes. But, don't worry, I'll be fine as long as those beasties leave me alone. And by 'leave me alone' I mean vanish off the face of the Earth for all eternity. If you want to know the background on my fear of roaches, read here. Bugs.

Regarding the recent face-to-face disturbances, apparently, we had inadvertently gotten dropped off our exterminator’s once every 6-month service schedule. Without realizing we had missed a treatment. If you have regular bug control service, and you never see any bugs, and you wonder if you really need to pay for the service at all-- in my experience, the answer is YES you need to have the bug company come and spray. Those ugly unwelcome nasty critters are lying in wait for any opportunity they can find to breach the barriers. They will invade if you aren’t protected. Watch out, people.

Rest assured, the oversight has been corrected and the exterminating service has serviced us again. Not a minute too soon.

Almost as terrifying, and equally chaotic was an experience from a decade or so ago. Another time that I lost it, also under the duress of an unwelcome invading species. I don’t normally fall apart over insects, spiders, and other crawly things. Cockroaches, sure. But not the other insects and pests. I usually handle them as need be.  I’m not particularly squeamish about rodents, either. With our kids, we had our share of pet gerbils, hamsters, dwarf hamsters, guinea pigs, and the like. I’ve also seen a sneaky mouse or two in various locations over the years. But, when this day rolled around, there was a rodent unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was in my house, and I was shocked, terrified, and ridiculously freaked out.

Here's how it went down.

We had suspected that we had an indoor visitor because we found some ‘nibbles’ on some wires and a few pieces of fruit. Around the house, we tried to seal a few openings and set up a several mouse traps. One morning, our dog ran into the kitchen and started sniffing at the cabinets voraciously.  She manipulated her whole body to push her head and shoulders into the floor-length pantry cabinet, amidst the flour, sugar, and cooking oil. She pressed deeply into the cabinet, standing with her rear jutting out. Her nose was in full gear. She was almost giddy with the excitement of the mystery smell that she was catching. Realizing there might be someone hiding in the pantry cabinet, Rob and I gathered around her, trying to decide how we should handle it.

Suddenly, shooting out between her legs, came the most disgusting creature I have ever seen. Now, I know it was a wharf rat. Then, I had absolutely no idea what it was. Long, gangly, stiff fur that stood out at all angles, squatty close to the ground, naked tail stretching out about a mile long. Our dog didn’t even see it; she kept up the pursuit in the cabinet. But, Rob and I saw it as it jerkily ran a course across the kitchen floor trying to make it to the other side of the room before the hunter discovered him.

I lost it. I don’t know how I got there, but I found myself standing on top of a kitchen chair, hopping back and forth on one foot then the other, arms raised above my head, screaming “EEEEEEEEK!” Just like a cartoon housewife. Exactly like one. It would be a hoot if we had a video of me, but, of course, we don’t. Rob, likewise, was reacting strongly to the intruder. Once it disappeared under the dishwasher, we looked at each other and said something to the effect of, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”  The rest is a blur in my memory. Somehow wharf rat was evicted, extra steps taken to ensure we never saw one of those guys again. Yada Yada. So on and so on.

The wharf rat looked something like this, only hairy-er:

Not only that, but apparently those creatures can measure up to 16 inches, which I have illustrated here using my shoe and a yardstick. The wharf rat would extend from the back of my shoe to the yellow marker. Yes, that's what was crawling across my kitchen floor! Was ours that big? With tail, yeah, I think so.

Hey, wanna come over to my house and see if any interesting creatures show up? I haven’t even told you about the bat or the baby flying squirrel yet. Those are stories for another day.

Meanwhile, things have settled down. No more unwelcome guests. I'm calm, cool, and collected. I keep plow mule-ing away, taking care of business, baby. Steady hand, steady mind. No freak outs here.

Here's the meditative cairn that I once built during a visit to Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park in Sedona, Arizona. Let's all focus, breathe deeply, relax, and calm our nerves. Aummmmm.