A moth stopped by the other day. I
do not know how he got in, possibly slipping under the door or sneaking in when
someone swung the door open, but regardless of his mode of entry, there he was
mercilessly and repeatedly body slamming himself into the plate glass of my
east facing window like a wrestler aggressively attempting to scare his
opponent before the match begins!
Initially
annoyed by his intrusion into my early morning rituals, I swatted at him and
missed. In response he became infuriated and flew around aimlessly venting his
frustration. I have a certain intuition in reference to animals and realized
what he was trying to communicate, however I cannot repeat his thoughts in
mixed company and to clean up his language would lose its meaning as his
thoughts were completely lacking in even the slightest modicum of diplomacy as
he registered his protest, in no uncertain terms, stating his disapproval of my
species in general and his revulsion for my personal aggressive, antisocial
behavior specifically. Presumably, imminent death can have that effect on the unwelcome
guest.
By this
point in our interlude, I was regaining consciousness and to quote Abraham
Lincoln “the better angels of our nature” were rallying themselves on my left
shoulder while those of the opposing camp were subverted on my right shoulder and
I remorsefully advanced stealthily and raised the window a few inches. The moth
immediately flew under the window reinvigorated by smelling the fresh clean morning
air. Next, I lowered the window a bit trapping the furry red intruder between
the pane and the screen and gently raised the screen a few inches. An
intelligent animal, he picked up the drift both literally and figuratively
escaping under the screen as the theme song to the movie Born Free suddenly
resurfaced from the recesses of my memory and played aloud in my head. Overcome
with regret at my initial actions, I ran to get my favorite pair of clean wool
socks, rolled them up and threw them out the window after the moth, hopefully
giving him some sustenance for his sendoff. While he did not have the glamour
or beauty to be a famous butterfly in the Davis Family Vivarium at the American
Museum of Natural History, Morty Moth my furry red little guest might have
made as good a companion as any of those sophisticated chocolate poodles you
see prancing along 5th Ave, wearing their Jimmy Choo shiny fire-engine red booties
and matching jacket!
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