The fly

Readers will recall a recent article regarding the purpose of mosquitoes. We found his twofold purpose to be the spread of disease and as a food source, mostly for bullfrogs.  There is another creature that is even more loathsome than that disease spreading insect. I write, of course, about the common housefly. Like the mosquito, this creature has the job of spreading various maladies among the human race. They have another, much more odious task assigned to them by the Creator Himself.

It is the singular assignment to every fly on the earth to torment all of creation (cats are exempt). They were, no doubt, the insect referred to in the plagues of Egypt and they are very good at what they do. So good, in fact, that it now takes only one to rob an individual of all reason and sense. They can cause women of sound moral principle to swear like a sailor. They can bring about madness in grown men and tears in small children. Dogs have been known to bite at the air in an attempt to rid themselves of this king of pests. Only cats are exempt from their evil ways. No one knows why.

They have no known predators save the occasional cat. So  far as I can tell, the only reason a fly exists is to bother people and animals and eat the stuff that nobody else will eat. They are the nastiest creatures on the planet.

So, why is this even a discussion? I will tell you. It seems my lovely and tranquil home has been invaded by one, and only one, fly. He has been appointed to torment the matron of the house. When on normal days  I come home from work, she is the sight of joy and repose, now it is a frayed and violently angered woman that greets me. I came home one evening to find her poised in a fighting position with a fly swatter held high over her head. Her eyes had the crazed look of the tortured. I thought for a minute that she would come for me but I quickly reminded her that I am not the fly in question. That seemed to satisfy her until the vile creature himself made a taunting dive in front of her. She swung fiercely in his direction and popped me right on the head. I retreated to the den and out of harm’s way. The hunt continued with her swinging wildly and the tormentor buzzing about her head. I could’ve sworn I heard him laugh. She did too and that only increased her anger. Sensing his victim to be at the edge of her sanity, he retreated for the night. That is their talent. Push their assigned human right to the edge, then run.

Now you know why grown men go bald at an early age.

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