Startup Fiance

This morning I went through the normal routine, and as I made my way hastily to the door I stopped to say goodbye to the dogs. I knelt down to give Tucky a good pat on the head, and as he looked up at me through tired eyes, I saw that the ants had extended their reign of terror into the dogs’ sleeping quarters. My poor Tucky puppy had ants crawling all over his face, in his pink and brown spotted nose, all over his torso, and some even dared to roam into his slightly ajar mouth. As soon as I was aware of their presence they were crawling up my arms, on their way to somehow entering my cranium, and subsequently dining on my brains.

I did notice that Tucker had a 2-3 inch square spot on his belly that was crunchy to the touch, and I assume it was the remnants of some type of garbage item he managed to chow down on at some point during the evening hours. As I walked back over to Tucker’s chair (yes, he has a lazy-boy he sleeps in every night) with a wet paper towel to rid him of his furry imperfection, I saw the ant trail. It began in the pool area, and the thousands of ants making their exodus to the homestead followed a crack in the cement by the pool to the chain link pool fence, from there they took a straight shot along the cement slab to the sliding glass door, from the sliding door they followed the family room wall into the dog bed corner.

Apparently Guapo and Biz do not meet the criteria for ant invasion because they laid in their beds soundly sleeping and completely unharmed while Tucker was being systematically attacked. I was on a mission to kill all of the ants in my sight before I left for work and I began to smash, squish, and slap every black segmented infiltrator that dared to lay a skinny appendage on my Tucky. All of this movement roused Tucker from his previously slumberous existence and he began sneezing every few seconds in an effort to expel the unwanted visitors from his nasal passages. The forceful sneezing was soon accompanied by furious back and forth body thrusts against the couch to rid himself of the ants still on his canine body.

After about 10 minutes I realized that I had done what I could and Tucker’s sad, help-me eyes transformed into their peaceful, sleepy glow. Upon returning home this evening I have not noticed any intruders in that corner of our living area, but they have begun coming into our master bathroom via the shower. For any ants that may be reading I will repeat the words Butterfinger told your now-deceased friends hanging out in our bathroom sink last night, “No one here likes you, just go away”! The days of our symbiotic relationship have come and gone, the next time I see one of you I will kill you with my bare hands and then poison your followers. This holds especially true for you daredevil ants that enjoy hitching a ride with me to work in the mornings. I am done messing around with you fools.