Pet Free Zone

I was mentally preparing myself for my Physical Torture session last week, when I received a call from Fiddledaddy.  He was eerily calm, but I could tell from ALL THE SCREAMING in the background that something was amiss.  He reported to me that water was pouring out from the aquarium.  Now, by “pouring out,” I assumed that a trickle of water had made its way onto the counter.  Likely the hose from the filter had backed up.  And then he asked me urgently where the fish net was.  “The fish net?”  I couldn’t imagine that this trickle of water should warrant my beloved fish being extricated from their home.  Fiddledaddy then informed me that by water “pouring out” from the aquarium, he meant LIKE A WATERFALL OVER THE KITCHEN COUNTER.

I heard the two youngest screaming children mourning the certain death of the only pets we had left.  I remained calm as I informed them of the whereabouts of the fish net, knowing I might never see those fish again in this lifetime.

I had a decision to make.  I could ditch Physical Torture and leave my therapist in the lurch so that I could face the carnage at home, or I could stay and be bent into shapes that even a pretzel should never endure.

I chose the torture.  I lay on the padded table and went to my mental happy place.  For the next hour I concentrated only on the clear and present pain, rather than on the danger that awaited me at home.

I drove home slowly after my appointment.

When I arrived, the aquarium had been relocated to the back yard, the shell-shocked fish were encamped in a very small fish bowl, and every towel in the house was soaked and smelled of aquarium water.

Fiddledaddy did an excellent job of handling the aquarium emergency as well as two high-strung children.

I should make a hasty exit during all emergencies from here on out.

I made the not-so-difficult decision of carefully packing the fish up and taking them to my local pet store, so that they could be adopted out by a family who did NOT buy their aquarium at Wal Mart.

Later, as I put the 5th load of towels into the washing machine, I mused to Fiddledaddy, “For the first time in our married life, we are officially pet-free.”

Not so fast.  You forgot about the ants in the bathroom.”

Indeed.  When we were away camping, an army of ants commandeered my bathtub.  We placed no fewer than 4 ant bait traps (the industrial strength variety) around my beloved garden tub.  Honestly, I think the bait is just making them intoxicated.  They drunkenly fall into the tub, and then climb their way back out for more.  And they have invited all the neighborhood ants to their party.

Jensen has taken to naming them, and I’m currently hosing myself off in the yard in lieu of my daily soak.

Pets are over-rated.


4 Responses to Pet Free Zone

  • Grant’s works well but takes time. They have to take it back to the colony so that you kill the whole nest. Honestly
    if we made commercials that show the problems we can have here with roaches, ants, snakes etc, people wouldn’t move here!

  • Try borax for the ants. We did bait traps and it just seemed to get worse but when we did the borax it was over in a couple of days. Google it to learn how…sugar water cotton balls etc. It does work! 🙂 So sorry about the fish. I was so glad when we finally got out of the fish “biz”. 🙂

  • Pet Free – that’s my dream!

  • One of the unscented ant sprays – maybe Raid, fragrance-free? – really isn’t too foul, and it does the job. Since you don’t have (other) pets to worry about, you can even leave it down or in all corners, cracks, and crevices overnight! I tend to repeat daily out of paranoia at first, then weekly or bi-weekly for prevention, but the first dousing tends to take care of the problem. (Which was well over 100 ants in the kitchen when we got home from a vacation once – they’d found the hard cat food – but then again, these weren’t Florida ants.)