LOBO is a Mom
Predator Press
[LOBO]
As a cat owner –currently sans cat- a bug is kind of an event.
Particularly a flying one given the complexity of entering my lair. The ladybug must have "hitched a ride" in or on my clothing. And with good reason frankly; three weeks ago we had just settled down to our first good local deepfreeze.
But she -the ladybug- was fucked. It was unsurvivable outside, and I didn’t have any plants for her to eat. I didn’t even have any windows.
But over the span of that week, she grew grayer and less colorful. The last day she didn’t even bother to hide from me; she just hung on the ceiling.
And I was sad. This tiny little thing had stabbed its way through a maelstrom of garbage inconveniently into my inner-circle of consciousness; she was certainly going to die one way or the other … maybe there was a greater dignity in having crushed her on sight in the first place.
I have vacuumed at least four times under the spot where the grey, unmoving carapace of the ladybug was last seen, and haven’t given it a thought since.
-But today I found the teeniest little ladybug drinking water from a drop in the bathroom sink.
[LOBO]
As a cat owner –currently sans cat- a bug is kind of an event.
Particularly a flying one given the complexity of entering my lair. The ladybug must have "hitched a ride" in or on my clothing. And with good reason frankly; three weeks ago we had just settled down to our first good local deepfreeze.
But she -the ladybug- was fucked. It was unsurvivable outside, and I didn’t have any plants for her to eat. I didn’t even have any windows.
So I “googled” ladybugs, and found out that aside from aphids they are more or less
omnivores. There was generally water and
an occasional dirty dish. While I’m not
hauling in foliage, I figure she had a better bet with me than the subzero
temperatures.
But over the span of that week, she grew grayer and less colorful. The last day she didn’t even bother to hide from me; she just hung on the ceiling.
And I was sad. This tiny little thing had stabbed its way through a maelstrom of garbage inconveniently into my inner-circle of consciousness; she was certainly going to die one way or the other … maybe there was a greater dignity in having crushed her on sight in the first place.
I have vacuumed at least four times under the spot where the grey, unmoving carapace of the ladybug was last seen, and haven’t given it a thought since.
-But today I found the teeniest little ladybug drinking water from a drop in the bathroom sink.
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