Today, I discovered we'd taken on a new pet at the house: George. George is a fly that doesn't fly.
He crawled up onto my bare foot and scared the crap out of me (I wonder if that's what he wanted from me). I flicked it away and started looking for it. That's when Jill told me about our latest pet.
George doesn't fly. He's a fly, but he doesn't fly for some reason. He crawls around the house all day. He's been with us for a while now, and likes to randomly show up on pillows, plants, walls, and feet. He can get around just fine, apparently, he just can't fly. I've seen very young flies do that before, but unless George is a midget in some kind of super-fly species that happened to have spawned in my living room, I think there's something different about him.
I don't know what, or even how, he eats. He's been getting around this past week, so he must be eating something.
Many of you might be wondering why I haven't just stepped on the little guy. Well, that's complex.
I don't squish bugs. I don't crush spiders. I don't kill bugs very often. Sugar-craved ants crawling over the dog's food, yes. Wasps making a summer home in my roof, yes. Flies flying around looking for poop to eat and procreate on, yes. The downtrodden, the injured, the dying bug - no. I don't kill them.
I don't know why. I've always been that way. Maybe it was because of the neighborhood kid who used to pull the legs off of frogs (I hated that). Maybe it's due to some weird sense of Kharma. Whatever it is, I don't find pleasure in killing an insect or spider, and I'm not often scared or bothered by a single bug. I don't have issue with them, the bugs. I just don't want them in my house. I'll do whatever I can to get them outside long before I consider squishing it.
George, well, he's different. George isn't afraid of people, apparently, seeing as how I could chase him around with my finger and my camera. He let me take close up pictures without crawling away. He was content with hanging out with my toes, which no sane animal would do (one of our cats likes to lick them - note my previous statement about the mental health of an animal, and you might guess why the cat licks toes.
George, I'll be curious to see how long you last. But know this - the second you can support yourself, you're on your own.
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Original post blogged on b2evolution.