I used to have an
of tiny bugs in my house, always dead on the kitchen counter in almost
exactly the same area. This was a mystery for many, many months,
but I found the source of them at long last. I used to have a
of dog cookies in a zip-lock bag on the top shelf of the kitchen
above my microwave. Somehow a bug (probably a pregnant one) got
there and those dozen or so cookies eventually turned into a bug-making
factory. I don't know what it was about the cookies themselves,
apparently they were sustenance for the larva, but the bugs quickly
soon afterward, and they would gradually fall out of the cabinet onto
the counter and the top of the microwave.
It was completely bizarre
because I couldn't
find a hole in the ceiling through which they were being deposited, DOA
as it were. And it didn't make much sense why they were only
up on one end of the kitchen countertop. It was like a Twilight
episode with without the Serling twist... or at least I was waiting
for that hammer of karmic irony to fall.
In preparing to move over to
week, I dug into that long-untouched top shelf of the cabinet. I
had stored mostly un-used things like cans of food and toys for Dani's
dog and whatever foster dogs I get. What I found was this bag
of dead bugs and dog cookies that had a million little holes bored
them. Normally these cookies are heavy enough or at least dense
enough to constitute a murder weapon in most states or at least a game
of "Clue," but no longer. Once the bugs had a few months time in
which to feast on them, the cookies weighed only a couple ounces.
They were about the weight of a pack of gum... only minus the
Well, the story didn't end there. In fact, another one has been
Over the past couple weeks,
been small, *flying* versions of these bugs buzzing about the
It's hardly a domestic revival of "The Swarm," by any stretch, but an
bug would wind its way into the computer room and flirt with my monitor
while I typed. I started emptying my garbage cans more regularly,
thinking maybe they had hatched from there, but that didn't seem to do
anything. No, the problem was that I had an even larger time-bomb
waiting to explode: a whole box of dog cookies in the back room.
Dani had bought an entire box
several months ago, and the thing was almost completely full.
the bugs only just recently discovered this cache or I would be
out my windows under a sea of carapaces. Oddly enough, I didn't
find out about this second infestation until after the fact. See,
in packing up the stuff for Dani's place, I only got around to picking
up the box on Friday, just before I headed over there. I tossed
along with a few other things in my back seat and got on the
As I drove down the interstate toward Fort Worth, I kept having a bug
two fly through my field of vision. I couldn't be distracted from
the road long enough to try to tackle the annoyance, so I did my best
When I arrived at Dani's, I
unload the box and other belongings when a couple of the bugs flew out
of the top of the box. Dani was out of the house helping me at
point and noticed them as well. We took a look inside the box and
found similarly-sized holes bored into these cookies as well. We
left the box outside that night and threw the cookies out all along the
highway the next day when we went for a ride. Disaster
Well, for us that is. Meanwhile, in boxes of dog cookies in homes
throughout Fort Worth, there are scores of innocuous-looking little
getting ready to work their magic on their unsuspecting hosts!
As I write this, even though I
received a single insectoid fly-by, I'm just as itchy as hell. I
keep thinking I'm feeling things crawling on me from everywhere.
I guess that's the ending Rod Serling would pop back in to narrate in
episode of my life: The bugs have been eliminated from everywhere
the one space from which their presence cannot be exorcised... a mind
is now trapped in a place called... The Twilight Zone.