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Came into the kitchen this morning to find a huge bee on the counter near the sink. Not the Biggest Bee Ever, but still... Pretty Damn Big. (Those are official scientific classifications, you know.)
My usual policy as regards insects1 is to live and let live. I don't like taking life for no reason. So I won't bother you if you don't bother me. "Bothering me" in this context includes a reasonable probability of posing a health risk to me or my family. I happily shoot mosquitos dead2, for example. Not only do they bite, but they can transmit diseases picked up from other "blood donors."
As far as bees go, I have more incentive than usual to leave them alone. They do sting, after all. But only if you bother them. (If someone nearby was allergic to bee stings, of course, that would be a different matter.)
So I left it alone and went about my business. It had the courtesy to do the same. All well and good. And then... it dropped to the floor and, when I wasn't looking, walked over to my dog.
Now, the dog I grew up with had this thing about bugs. She loved to eat them. If a fly buzzed by her nose, she'd snap it out of the air and swallow it. We were always worried about what would happen if the fly turned out to be a bee, but thankfully that never really came up. She would also fiercely defend a family member from any perceived threat. Her home territory, too, come to think. We once found ourselves delayed on our return from vacation, so we asked a neighbor (someone she knew well) to drop by and feed her. But we weren't home to give approval to the visit, and so she barked and growled and refused by any means to allow the neighbor inside.
This... is not that dog. The bee had come up from behind, so at first he just twitched his tail3 as if something had tickled it. Then he turned and saw what had happened. He jumped up. Before I knew it, he was on the other side of the kitchen, head down (basically cowering in fear), looking at me for help, and encouraging me to come follow him into the guest bedroom (and probably lock the door behind us).
I patted him. Looked him over. He was fine. Just terrified. I told him it was okay, but he didn't believe me. Kept trying to lead me into the guest room.
I went over and looked. The bee was standing on the dog's bed, perfectly still. Probably afraid of the huge creature that had suddenly moved with such speed. But it looked more like it was saying, "I have vanquished the dog! I claim this bed in the name of the Queen!"
I thought about it. The bee wasn't moving much, but it was still alive and intact. And I remembered that we'd once been worried about a possible infestation by carpenter bees, which would pose a danger to the family. I decided to capture the bee, and took a sec to figure out how to do it. Then I got out a large clear plastic container, walked slowly up behind the bee, and trapped it inside. Slowly slipped the lid underneath4, snapped it into place, and... done!
I assured the dog that the bee had been captured and everything was fine. He remained on the far end of the kitchen. I unloaded the dishwasher, which put me in the area where the bee had been. I was perfectly calm about it and came away unharmed. About half an hour later, the dog finally got up, walked over to his bed, surveyed the area from a foot or two away, and left to take a long drink from his nearby water bowl5. Then he made his way once more to the far side of the kitchen.
After his walk6, he dutifully went to his bed to receive his post-outing ice cubes7. He lay there just fine. Looked like everything was back to normal. And then he sniffed the place where the bee had been standing for a little while. Got up, sniffed it some more. Licked it. No idea why. Now he's back on the far side of the kitchen. The ice cubes are still there, and he's obviously still overheated from the walk. Maybe his bed really was claimed in the name of the Queen. I gave him some more ice cubes over at his temporary retreat. He took a few minutes and some patting, but he's eating them now.
As for the bee? In its makeshift terrarium. As mentioned, I took some pictures. With a penny for scale:
And, of course, my obligation as a member of![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
scans_daily:
1And, actually, most other non-human animal lifeforms with which I have no direct business.
2I'm long out of practice, but in my high school days I could splatter a mosquito on the wall with a rubber band fired from halfway across the room.
3It thumped against the floor, which is what drew my attention.
4The dog's bed is soft foam, so I was able to press the container down as I slid the lid in from the far side, keeping the gap to a minimum. The bee's large size made it difficult for it to slip through even if it had noticed the gap.
5To calm his nerves? Express relief? Or because he'd wanted to take a drink before but had been too scared? I don't know.
6A friend came over to do it; I can't be outside that long during the height of pollen season.
7A crunchy, low-calorie snack that also helps cool him off.
In unrelated news, I was apparently in the mood for footnotes. I don't know why.
My usual policy as regards insects1 is to live and let live. I don't like taking life for no reason. So I won't bother you if you don't bother me. "Bothering me" in this context includes a reasonable probability of posing a health risk to me or my family. I happily shoot mosquitos dead2, for example. Not only do they bite, but they can transmit diseases picked up from other "blood donors."
As far as bees go, I have more incentive than usual to leave them alone. They do sting, after all. But only if you bother them. (If someone nearby was allergic to bee stings, of course, that would be a different matter.)
So I left it alone and went about my business. It had the courtesy to do the same. All well and good. And then... it dropped to the floor and, when I wasn't looking, walked over to my dog.
Now, the dog I grew up with had this thing about bugs. She loved to eat them. If a fly buzzed by her nose, she'd snap it out of the air and swallow it. We were always worried about what would happen if the fly turned out to be a bee, but thankfully that never really came up. She would also fiercely defend a family member from any perceived threat. Her home territory, too, come to think. We once found ourselves delayed on our return from vacation, so we asked a neighbor (someone she knew well) to drop by and feed her. But we weren't home to give approval to the visit, and so she barked and growled and refused by any means to allow the neighbor inside.
This... is not that dog. The bee had come up from behind, so at first he just twitched his tail3 as if something had tickled it. Then he turned and saw what had happened. He jumped up. Before I knew it, he was on the other side of the kitchen, head down (basically cowering in fear), looking at me for help, and encouraging me to come follow him into the guest bedroom (and probably lock the door behind us).
I patted him. Looked him over. He was fine. Just terrified. I told him it was okay, but he didn't believe me. Kept trying to lead me into the guest room.
I went over and looked. The bee was standing on the dog's bed, perfectly still. Probably afraid of the huge creature that had suddenly moved with such speed. But it looked more like it was saying, "I have vanquished the dog! I claim this bed in the name of the Queen!"
I thought about it. The bee wasn't moving much, but it was still alive and intact. And I remembered that we'd once been worried about a possible infestation by carpenter bees, which would pose a danger to the family. I decided to capture the bee, and took a sec to figure out how to do it. Then I got out a large clear plastic container, walked slowly up behind the bee, and trapped it inside. Slowly slipped the lid underneath4, snapped it into place, and... done!
I assured the dog that the bee had been captured and everything was fine. He remained on the far end of the kitchen. I unloaded the dishwasher, which put me in the area where the bee had been. I was perfectly calm about it and came away unharmed. About half an hour later, the dog finally got up, walked over to his bed, surveyed the area from a foot or two away, and left to take a long drink from his nearby water bowl5. Then he made his way once more to the far side of the kitchen.
After his walk6, he dutifully went to his bed to receive his post-outing ice cubes7. He lay there just fine. Looked like everything was back to normal. And then he sniffed the place where the bee had been standing for a little while. Got up, sniffed it some more. Licked it. No idea why. Now he's back on the far side of the kitchen. The ice cubes are still there, and he's obviously still overheated from the walk. Maybe his bed really was claimed in the name of the Queen. I gave him some more ice cubes over at his temporary retreat. He took a few minutes and some patting, but he's eating them now.
As for the bee? In its makeshift terrarium. As mentioned, I took some pictures. With a penny for scale:
And, of course, my obligation as a member of
scans_daily:1And, actually, most other non-human animal lifeforms with which I have no direct business.
2I'm long out of practice, but in my high school days I could splatter a mosquito on the wall with a rubber band fired from halfway across the room.
3It thumped against the floor, which is what drew my attention.
4The dog's bed is soft foam, so I was able to press the container down as I slid the lid in from the far side, keeping the gap to a minimum. The bee's large size made it difficult for it to slip through even if it had noticed the gap.
5To calm his nerves? Express relief? Or because he'd wanted to take a drink before but had been too scared? I don't know.
6A friend came over to do it; I can't be outside that long during the height of pollen season.
7A crunchy, low-calorie snack that also helps cool him off.
In unrelated news, I was apparently in the mood for footnotes. I don't know why.
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From: (Anonymous)
no subject
-- Flurgh, who is too lazy to log in.
From:
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From: (Anonymous)
Bee and Wasp Stings
Last week, I witnessed a 4 year old girl with her hand and forearm swollen to her elbow, from a wasp sting that she received to her fingertip the day before. The sight of her hand and arm brought tears to my eyes because I knew that if she had had Baker's Venom Cleanser Bee Sting Cure (http://www.BeeStingCure.com) available when she was stung, none of her discomfort would have elevated to that extreme point of swelling and discomfort.
Our web site has under gone some new additions worth taking a look at. 1988 investigative news video footage by George Ciccarone of Cincinnati's WKRC-TV interviews founder Ray Baker, a pharmacist and others about the effectiveness of Baker's Venom Cleanser on stings in people as the stings occur. This is a must see amazing video about how to cure bee stings with Baker's Venom Cleanser. www.YouTube.com/BeeStingCure (http://www.YouTube.com/BeeStingCure) the link is also available at our web site.
From:
no subject
Interesting (and fun!) reading your story, though. :) The poor dog!
And I'm amazed at your ability to shoot at mosquitos like that. ;)
See ya,
Anna.
From:
***
From:
Re: ***
Thanks for the language.
From:
no subject
Glad you enjoyed the story. And nice job* with the footnotes.
*Mostly. ;)
From:
no subject
*still amused*
From:
no subject
And that one looks like the yellowjackets that frequent our place summers. No one here's allergic, but we like to use our deck in the sunshine without being bothered, so we end up going on a yellowjacket hunt and ripping out the nests they try to build.
From:
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