My kitties, my protectors

When I was five years old, my mother started reading all the Little House books out loud to me. Every night, I'd look forward to hearing another chapter...unless it had to do with wolves. In fact, I was so terrified of wolves--chasing the girls around or prowling outside their log cabin at night--that my mother had to replace the word "wolf" with "hmph" each time it was mentioned.

So tonight, in much the same way, as I tell my tale of terror, I will be referring to "those awful black/brown insects that are notorious for creeping their way into city apartments" (and if you really can't figure out what I'm talking about then I can't help you because I refuse to call them by name) as "whatzits".

I first noticed something was strange when I saw Murphy sitting in the corner, staring at the wall. I thought he was just being a weird cat so I tried to ignore it. But then an hour went by, and I couldn't stop wondering what was going on in the corner, where Murphy still sat, staring fixated at the wall. He wasn't sleeping, and there was a certain tenseness in his back. I got up and sat next to him, trying to see the wall from his perspective, but there was nothing to see. I walked away, confident that Murphy was just crazy.

But then a few minutes later Baxter went and sat with Murphy...and then started clawing at the base of my floor lamp. I suddenly knew something was there, but I didn't want to admit what it might be. See, in nearly six years of in New York City, I've only found two whatzits in my apartment, which, by NYC standards, is really impressive. It doesn't matter what floor you live on, how clean your apartment is, or who lives next door. Whatzits are inevitable, and I was pretty sure I was about to face my third.

I walked over to the lamp, grabbed it by the stand, lifted it off the ground, and there I saw the whatzit, lying on its back flailing its arms and antennae in the air. Terrified I slammed the lamp back down and ran away. I didn't know what to do, and before anyone makes fun of me for being afraid of a bug let me just say that I have no problem with spiders, ants, or flies, but when a bug is two inches of ugly, I run the other way.

I knew that I'd need to kill it, but I also knew I needed some support, and watching the cats paw at the lamp wasn't helping, so I called a friend. She sympathized with me and suggested that in addition to putting on shoes and grabbing some paper towels, perhaps I should grab something to spray at it.

"Perfect!" I said, looking under my sink. "What do you think will work better, Tilex, Windex, or Resolve?" We settled on Tilex, and I'm not quite sure why, but it sounded poisonous enough. (Let me also add that I'm slowly switching my household products over to biodegradable, non-poisonous, earth-friendly brands, but I was really, really glad at this moment to still have something toxic lying around.)

I went back to the lamp and my friend on the phone had to give me a pep talk to get me to lift it up again. After putting the phone on speaker and setting it on the windowsill, I quickly lifted up the lamp and began dousing the whatzit with Tilex. "It's still alive!" I screamed into the phone. "I'm spraying it!" I must have sprayed that thing six or seven times, and yet it lived. I slammed the lamp down on it again, out of breath and unsure what to do next. "Maybe if I let it suffocate in the Tilex for a minute it will die," I suggested. But when I revved myself up to lift the lamp once more, it was still flailing. I sprayed it over and over again and then, in fear that it would escape and go create some sort of immortal whatzit-Tilex breed, I finally grabbed it in the paper towel. "I got it! It's in a paper towel now but it's still alive!" I screamed, running into the bathroom, and throwing it in the toilet. "Flush, flush!" my friend screamed back. And I did.

It was all incredibly dramatic and horrifying and I may still be shaken by it, despite the fact that about an hour has passed. But if it wasn't for my kitties and their strange behavior, who knows where the whatzit would have gone next, after freeing itself out from under the lamp.

I gave the boys treats, and thanked them for watching out for me. Unfortunately they then continued to patrol the area for a while, causing me to constantly lift up the lamp expecting to see horror underneath. But I am nearly positive now that the horror has passed for tonight, and Murphy has gone back to normal, snoozing away in his kitty bed.

But Baxter's still sitting in the corner, looking out for me.

Good kitty.