This is my house….
This is my house with a big rubber tent being put over it:
This is why they had to put the rubber tent over my house…because they were pumping it full of:
They do this periodically in hot, moist climates because it is the only way to stop termites from eating your 150-year-old house down to the foundation. I have recently found termites in my lap; on my shirt; once even in my hair.
That is when I said: “We are eradicating these little frackers now.”
While they were tenting our house to pump it with deadly poison, we had to find alternative housing, which is always fun when you have two cats, one of whom is basically an outdoor cat (except at night, when I make her stay inside for her own safety and my peace of mind. As you can see by the photo below, she has taken to sleeping indoors at night very grudgingly):
Gem was not in the least vexed by having to be kept indoors for 24 hours, lest she find a way back into the Danger Deadly Poison house (the deadly poison is odorless, so even a smart cat would not know to stay away from it). She didn't, for instance, take up this position by the door for the full 24 hours, ready to dart out the moment it was opened:
(notice my stockpile of TaB. Yes, you have to remove all food and drink from your home, lest the Danger Deadly Poison soak into it. Later we found out the poisoned gas can't get into unopened soda cans. But by then I had already moved them all. In a red Radio Flyer wagon. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture of that for you, but perhaps it's just as well).
Oh, and Gem didn't get so antsy that she started climbing the walls, either.
No, she was quite calm about the whole thing.
As was I. I didn't warn everyone in the neighborhood to keep their cats away from my house, or insist on helping listen for meowing coming out from under the house when they let off the tear gas to make sure no one was trapped inside before setting off the Danger Deadly Poison.
Not me. No way.
The only resident of my home who wasn't bothered in the least was Henrietta. She simply crawled between the pillows of the bed of our temporary home, and stayed there the whole time, purring happily. Makers of Tapazole, how much do I love you?
When we got home, all the termites were dead. I was so relieved, I had no problem borrowing my neighbor Tina's couture ball gown and going to a Masquerade Ball that very night (since it was Fat Tuesday):
Gem, meanwhile, is back to doing what we apparently so cruelly kept her from doing for twenty-four hours:
And all is right with the world.
More later.
Much love,
Meg
PS If you would like a sneak peek at an excerpt from my May 2006 release, QUEEN OF BABBLE, go here.
