Somehow a fly got in my house. Given my aversion to the outdoors and my reluctance to let any of it indoors, this particular fly must have slipped in during the three seconds the door is open to let the dogs in or out.
At any rate, the one fly that made it in was one of the buzzing ones. I found this out when I got in bed, turned on my reading lights and tried to relax. Wasn’t going to happen. That damned fly would give me just enough time to get settled and then it would buzz me again. And buzz me. And buzz me.
Given the brownie I’d had before the buzzing started, I was more able to ignore the sound than I would have otherwise been because I was REALLY relaxed. But you know who wasn’t really relaxed? Nayla. Unbeknownst to me, she is apparently a hunting dog and she loves to hunt buzzing flies. Either that or she knew she wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep if it kept buzzing our bed.
So every time the fly did a fly by, Nayla would leap up and snap her jaws mightily. She never actually caught the fly, but the way she snapped her jaws shut, I was pretty sure she could break a steel rod.
This continued for the three hours I sat in bed trying to read. Buzz, jump, snap, growl, twirl madly looking for it, relax because buzzing sound is gone, buzz is back, repeat.
I finally gave up and turned off the light figuring that would discourage the fly. Maybe it did. But it didn’t discourage Nayla. Even when I didn’t hear it, she apparently could see it. And so most of the night was spent with me trying to sleep and Nayla leaping off the bed at odd intervals and chasing the fly.
It all stopped around 4 AM. So either Nayla had a successful night hunt, the fly died a natural death because, after all, how long do they live, or both decided to call it off and grab what few hours of shut eye they could before starting the hunt all over again today.
Nayla – the great huntress. No fly will escape her, even if mom is screaming at her to calm down and just go the hell to sleep.