Of Cats And "Tiny Birds"

     I was in the kitchen just now, slicing a rare and delicious yellow apple from the grocer's (seriously, this variety, a cross between the Golden Delicious and something obscure, tastes like honey-infused sunshine; I've never had better) when Rannie began looking up and singing the The Bird Song: "Enh, Enh, wheeeeeeeeenh, wheeeeeeengh...."

      Whatever it was was invisible-- no, there at the light fixture: a small, gray moth.

     "It's just a moth, Rannie.  You don't really want it."

     She shot me a skeptical look and went back to tracking, singing of bird-biting with a quivering jaw, "Wah-aaaaaanh, eeeeeenh, aaaaangh...."

     I made a swipe at the moth, missed, and it fluttered off.  Rannie left in disgust, making complaining noises. Sure hope I can find the darned thing before the cats get more serious about taking it on the wing.

     ETA: Got the moth right before bedtime -- went to get a bottle of water for bedside and it was lurking on the basement door.  (Happy to have removed it; yesterday one of my co-workers was unnerved by a pantry infestation of moths and brought one in in a pill bottle, wondering what it could be.  She called a local exterminator who told her what they were and how to deal with it -- a fix that did not require the exterminator's services.  That put Gold Seal Pest Control squarely on my good list.)