Moth-erfucker
Another huge rainstorm hit last night just as I was getting ready to go to bed. Owen, who was already asleep, got up and helped me close all the windows. I went into our bedroom to close those windows and exclaimed, "Mary, Mother of God!"

The moth was back.

This is no ordinary moth. It's a wriggling, brown, huge, ugly ass moth. And it was performing acrobatics all over the ceiling. "Dom! Get him!" I screamed. Dom, however, chose that moment to disappear into his litterbox.

The moth must have a death wish. I swear. This is the third time he has returned to the house after Owen released him outside. Unless it's three separate moths (which I suppose is possible). But we saw it in the house, let it go, it came back, we let it go again, and it came back again.

Dom, as you can imagine, is enraged by the moth's presence. He is quite a stalker when it comes to bugs and creepy crawlies (and dirty underwear). He could watch a bug on the wall for hours before he makes his move. He is especially adept at hunting moths. Except for this particular moth, which eludes him by perching high on the wall. Yesterday he was howling at the side door. I couldn't figure out why until I saw that damn moth hanging out on the door, near the top. Poor Dom.

So it's back. And if we let it go, it might come back again. Until Dom does it in. Which he will. No matter how long it takes.