I’ve had a housefly problem this year. I’m not sure why — the leading theories at the moment are (1) an adventurous rat traveled from the outdoor trash cans where they nest and into the walls of my house, whereupon he expired, (possibly due to a poor navigational sense similar to my own); (2) some unknown animal crawled into/flew down my only partially-sealed chimney, whereupon it expired; or (3) Beelzebub.
Whatever the cause, it reached a desperate enough level this weekend that I was considering buying flypaper. I find the idea odious, for a number of reasons practical, humane, and aesthetic. Also, my moronic feline companions would undoubtedly find some way to get at it, with tragic consequences. Fortunately, nature itself is addressing the problem.
There are two windows flanking the fireplace in the living room; both have been favorite locations for the flies to congregate — the Al’s Diner and Moe’s Place of the local undesirables. Sunday afternoon I noticed that a small but industrious spider had sent up shop in the right window, already having secured his first patron. By Sunday evening, there were seven tightly-wrapped bodies in the web. With luck, the problem will have solved itself within a few days.
Of course, I should begin planning now for the coming spiderpocalypse.