We have “a” fly. And I am absolutely certain it’s a demon sent by evil circus clowns to drive me stark, raving mad! I know what you’re thinking….just kill it, right? Not so easy with a devil fly sent by evil circus clowns. So far I have hit myself in the face with a rolled up newspaper, stubbed my fungus toe, and slipped on the wet bathroom floor trying to stomp it. I think my tailbone is bruised.

Yesterday after I put dinner in the oven, I came back here to sweep and mop. A half hour later I went into the kitchen to check on dinner. The oven was off! I turned it back on and came back here to finish my post. When I didn’t smell dinner cooking I returned once more to the oven to see why dinner wasn’t cooking. It was off AGAIN! I turned it back on and started my work in the kitchen. In just a few minutes the (we’ll still call it a fly but you KNOW it’s more than that) landed on the off button. Chloe immediately jumped up to try and catch it. Her paw came down square on the off knob and the fly flew up to the range hood to watch me turn the blasted thing back on again. He was laughing. I’M NOT CRAZY! He was laughing I tell you.

I figured the damnable thing would die from old age by now but it’s been 5 days of him buzzing in my ears at night and landing on my plate when I’m eating. Anything he can do to annoy me he does. It always ends the same. I hunt him, weapon in hand, until “I” get hurt. And it’s not just me. Nobody has been able to kill this thing. Apparently his bitty little fly brain is more developed than ours. And we can’t spray him because it would be bad for Webster. I’m tempted to try and torch him with my grill lighter. I just hope I don’t burn the hair offa my head in the process.


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