The good, the bad, and the buggy.

The bug guy was here today, spraying the outside of the house with the bug-stuff that keeps away the fire ants, the mosquitoes, and the wasps. Unfortunately, the spray also keeps away all the good bugs. I swear, I haven't seen a firefly since we moved to Texas in 1993.

I also let the bug-guy spray the inside of the house, but I watch him carefully and make sure he doesn't get that stuff too close to places where I'd rather not have it... like the closets, and inside the cabinets, and anyplace near the pet-food dishes. He thinks that the spray should go all over the house, into every nook and cranny. I told him the first time he came here that this house isn't like an English Muffin-- it's perfectly okay to miss some spots.

We used to have a different bug-guy, but he moved away a few years ago to San Antonio or somewhere up in the Hill Country. He understood how careful I was with the cats, and he made sure not to get a drop of that bug-stuff anywhere near the cat dishes or their toys or pillows. He was always very careful when he went in and out of the doors, always making sure that the cats weren't at his heels and ready to run out the door behind him. As he once told me: "If I ever let one of your cats out and he got lost, I swear to the Lord that I'd flat-out just leave the country." (Now he was a nice bug-guy.)

The guy we have now is okay, but I don't think he has cats in his own house. I have to remind him at least a dozen times not to spray near the closets, not to spray near the bed, not to spray near the cat-pillows, and please please please make sure the cats don't get out. He looks at me and nods his head, but I know he's not listening. Either that, or he just thinks I'm crazy. So I just follow him around the house, saying "Not there.... not too close to that.... don't bother with that spot... " I followed him around the house for twenty minutes this morning, telling him where not to spray, then the phone rang just as he was walking out the front door to do the outside. (I know he was thinking "Saved by the bell...")

Once he gets outside, though, he's on his own, and the hose that he uses to spray the bug-stuff shows no mercy as he aims it up into the trees, deep into the bushes, up around the roof line, and I swear he sprays every brick, every bit of the driveway, and every blade of grass.

One thing I forgot to tell him this time was not to spray the spot near the front porch where the little brown frog lives. I'm sure the frog was underneath the pavers of the porch when the bug-guy came, because the frog usually doesn't come out until it gets dark. Hopefully, the frog's hiding space is far enough underneath the flowerbeds to escape the bug-guy's toxic spray.

I can just imagine the look on the bug-guy's face if I tell him not to spray the front porch because I don't want him to disturb my frog.