I reached into the large kitty food bag yesterday to feed the two remaining feral cats and my companion calico, and when I withdrew my arm, filled food container in hand, I was surprised to see my forearm covered in little black ants. My arm was alive with them. I didn’t panic (sort of). I didn’t scream, although I could feel a scream itching to be released. No, I calmly took the food container to the sink, and washed the ants off my arm. With a sigh I knew my cozy abode had been invaded, my space was being violated by these small, quiet, black creatures scurrying out of the rain and into the nearest source of food they could find. I have come to peace with the fact that I cannot live with ants in my space. I will not share my food or space with tiny, crawling, swarming, black ants. So I killed them as quickly as I could with a spray bottle of biodegadable soap. I did my obligatory communication ritual with them and ordered them out of my house if they wanted to live. They refused to go. So, now, I wait patiently as the sweet bait spreads its deathly sleep into the colony so I can return to my creature comforts of a cozy home without little crawling ants. I respect the ant,--outside my boundaries, and I have tried every humane way to establish and maintain an ant free, ant forbidden territory. I bless the death of these black ants, may you know peace and lots of foraging in the next life. Forgive me as I forgive you. Amen!
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