ATTACK OF THE SWARM.

Yesterday (after foolishly leaving the windows open without putting my nyc screens in), I had a Swarm of houseflies in the house. ICK. Out to buy a flyswatter this morning. I have served death to the dozen or so that the girrls didn’t hunt down. It was a joint effort this morning, until Bast became frightened of Daddy Thor wielding his swatter and serving death while simultaneously invoking the wrath stored from a night of being dive-bombed, and fed upon in his sleep. Roo, of course, was impressed and hungry for the hunt, although she was momentarily confused by the ones that were falling to her level already, alas, dead. “Leave a few for me daddy!” I believe she now stands a little more in awe of my stealth… in as much as a feline huntress can be impressed with mere human abilities. She has since been circling the “wand,” wishing she had thumbs…