Bugzilla’s relative, made an appearance a few weeks ago, but quickly darted to safety behind a drawer. I’ve been cautiously opening drawers ever since. Until today.
Bug Killer Rating (BKR) reaches a new low.
Bug Killer Rating (BKR) definition: The BKR is assessed on a scale of 1 to 10, similarly to the PSR (Primitive Survival Rating) from Naked and Afraid. (Do I actually watch that cheezy show? I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes. I’m not saying any more. Stop asking me questions.)
A few years ago, after she chattered to Bugzilla as if inviting it to play, I thought Checkers was of little help when it came to bug killing. She was given a BKR of 1.5 because, after about ten years of training, she would occasionally chase, slowly torture, and then eat a very small bug. But mostly she’d just pester them until they died.
However, I have reassessed her BKR, essentially doubling it, from a 1.5 to a 3. Why was Checker’s BKR raised when she’s not even here anymore? Because Pye lowered the bar…
Yes, Pye set an all-time low Bug Killer Rating when she spotted the relative of Bugzilla’s – and did NOTHING. She did not chatter to it, she did not alert me to its presence, even though I was only a few feet away (and in mortal danger of being touched by the massive cockroach). She did not swat at it, she did not even BREATHE on it. Oh, she saw it all right. I know this because she silently FOLLOWED Bugzilla’s cousin (BC) around the living room. I noticed Pye’s odd behavior (read: not sleeping during the day), and that’s how I discovered BC had made a bold and daring reappearance.
To make matters worse, for a couple hours after spotting BC, Pye slunk around the house, cautiously looking around corners and darting for hiding places – as if she was SCARED. Because she made no attempt to wound, let alone kill, the bug, and because of her lack of warning to me, her faithful servant, Pye’s BKR is 1.
Hey, I’m the first one to admit I’m afraid of big bugs, but even *I* will make every attempt to kill them. I assess my BKR at about 5. I give myself a BKR of 5 because I will kill bugs, but I’m nervous as heck while catching them, and sqeemish while squishing them with a shoe, the entire time doing so with a facial expression of extreme disgust. Additionally, if there is a man anywhere within earshot, I will request his bug-squishing acumen on the grounds of chivalry.
To say I wanted BC dead won’t describe my desperation nearly as well as telling you what I DID when I realized I was about to lose BC behind the couch. First, you should know BC was about 1.75 inches long, a slightly smaller version of Bugzilla, the original 2.25-inch cockroach/palmetto bug/F-ed up piece of Nature’s creation.
As I was saying, I was determined not to let BC disappear into the bowels of the RV, only to have him reappear on my person or in my bed while I was sleeping. As BC crawled around the bottom of the couch, followed by
my never-faithful-good-for-nothing-hairball-producing-cat Pye, I began to feel my skin crawl and tickle in a premonition of what the future would hold if BC escaped unharmed. In a brave and bold attempt to snatch BC before he disappeared, I was willing to sacrifice my bare hand. My dominant right hand, I’ll have you know. That’s how determined I was – I was willing to endure the feeling of the writhing legs and antennae of a massive bug that would probably bite me and give me rabies. Roaches carry rabies, I’m sure of it. Nothing that size and that horrid doesn’t carry rabies.
Alas, I am perhaps not a skilled huntress you may believe me to be. No, no, it’s true. While I did make an attempt to snatch BC with my bare hand, I hesitated due to the extreme ick factor, and BC escaped into the crevice between the couch and oven.
What do you think I, the blond lemming with tendencies to panic, did in such a situation? I panicked, but with determination. I opened the couch, took out the drawers below the oven and below the fridge, grabbed a flashlight and the roach spray. I looked all over for BC, and sprayed random places with roach spray until the can was empty. No BC. And I’d swear my skin began to tickle.
I’d given up for the moment (being out of bug spray will do that to a person), but it turns out I must have connected BC with the bug spray. I came back into the room and there he was, on the far side of the kitchen floor, looking rather distressed. He was all the way across the room from where I’d seen him and been spraying, but I’m sure it was BC. (Don’t even suggest there is another BC. Nope, not possible.) Anyway, he was immediately introduced to my footwear.