over the course of the past few months i made a cactus island for my little lady bugs with their own little swimming pool underneath, is it was on top of a partially burned candle, which made a bit of a hollow beneath. there was about 10 or so 'stranded' on this island, which had everything an island needs (banana & honey) plenty of food, water, sunshine, and free 'love' as they expressed themselves very openly and i could envision a bright future all sitting around a mini xmas tree singing and being merry. but one by one they had to find out why the chicken crossed the road. one-by-one they ventured down from the windowsill and into the dark, death stink sink drain where they eventually succumbed to the darkness we all will go someday until there was only one lady bug left on the island. she had everything at her disposal, all except one single thing - a partner. she didn't even have a Wilson volleyball for company. i watched with great sadness as she began that journey down - down - down - but she clung to the dish rack for awhile, as if having second thoughts, so i made sure didn't accidentally make that choice for her - as suicide is a personal matter.
once i saw a toad on the sidewalk while walking my Hound and was going to save it from being smashed, as they so often do. but before i could scoop the toad up, Hound's giant paw 'popped' that little bugger in a nano-second. what a horrible, wretched sound - insides popping out of the mouth. i picked up the drying creature and it pissed on me, then just let out this tiny sigh, eyes glazed over - dead. Hound meant no harm, oblivious to the creature's demise like we are with the organisms living in our gut. i'm sure the toad didn't know what was coming just as if dying in a car crash and all those billions of living gut creatures all die, an ending to their micro universe.
the little ladybug never saw it coming as the wife sprayed into the sink taking the little bugger down into that darkness - the choice now made for her. wife unaware that she just killed the last ladybug on the paradise cactus island. i just leave the island, look at each day missing my little friends, curious as to why they all had to die. sometimes i look up wondering when the boot stomp's gonna waffle me out of existence, wonder if what or whomever takes me out will be aware? is there a finger waiting on the button? an island within an island within an island, as every man is an island.... is it strange to miss a bug?
Comments