I went into the kitchen this morning and as I was making SM's coffee, I heard the low drone of a bomber aircraft. You know. That low, "I'm too heavy for my wings" sound.
Something buzzed my field of vision. Half awake, I figured we must have a bee in the house. (*If the weather is halfway decent, I always leave our backdoor open so the dogs can go in and out, plus it gives us some nice fresh air. Consequently, I always have flys, bees and moths in the house.)
I kept making the coffee hoping that whatever it was wouldn't end up in the pot. I was buzzed again, this time though I was awake enough to notice what it was.
A big fly. Not the normal tiny housefly. We call those flying raisins around here. Snacks for the dogs who love to chase them down. Nope. This one was the mother of all fly's.
Big, iridescent and green. Kinda pretty.
Now I own a fly swatter. I rarely use it though since our open door policy means that I'd have to try and kill every fly on the planet. I do have other things to do with my time.
"If you were a bee I'd try and save you. As it is, your days are numbered, Dude."
The fly sit's on the counter just begging to be smacked. I get closer and he takes off. 3 pairs of doggie eyes watch as he drones on by, just out of reach.
"If you can wait until the door is open later on you just might die an honorable death outside where you belong."
Scooter makes a lunge, snapping.
Somehow I doubt he'll last that long.
Our Bouvier used to snap at and catch honey bees flying by. (Admittedly, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the bin.)
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