Chihuahuas and Mosquitos

Let me now blow up the illusion that I’m a carefree and positive guy. Yes, grasshopper, there is a dark side of me and this blackness is quickly revealed when I’m confronted with the travails of two of Earth’s most ubiquitous and malevolent creatures-

Chihuahuas and mosquitos.

Make no mistake those of you with minimal life experience with these sinister forces of the devil, these little pests are the most destructive enemies of love and harmony on our planet. Let me educate you on the perils of these pernicious pests.

First, although I’m a stout believer in the process of evolution and that all creatures great and small have a purpose on our planet, I have yet to come up with one defensible reason for the existence of chihuahuas and mosquitos. Neither of these life forms realistically support the well being of anything else in this world. Their sole purpose, and the only reason chihuahuas and mosquitos are here is to annoy and terrorize us.

But you say, what about all those cute little furless dogs that people go gaga over, those little four legged things that run around yipping at everything and everybody, nip at your ankles, then scamper back to the safety of the lap that protects them? Aren’t these small time terroristas filling some sort of love void for their lonely owners? Okay, let’s simply give them wind-up or battery powered doggie robots to lavish their affections upon. Then, at least, there would be an “off” button to push shutting the little monsters off.

Let’s be clear, chihuahuas are not real dogs, they are the devil’s own, hellions, sent to provoke and pervert the minds of men and as such should be immediately banished to an uninhabited island in the Arctic where their minimal coats would make their lives as miserable as the small herd of tirelessly barking yappers stationed twenty feet across the alley from my bedroom have made my life unbearable every night for weeks.

I recognize that my commitment to living a peaceful, nonviolent life is in peril with such negative thoughts. Yes, admittedly, I’ve spent hours in deep, sleepless thought considering how to murder these ceaseless yappers. But after countless conversations with the neighbors who own these noise machines, only to receive the same response, “si, amigo,” I’m faced with no other alternative but to plot their demise.

Where is the Dali Lama when I need him?

Which brings me to mosquitos. At least chihuahuas have some minimal use as love toys, but mosquitos? I have to think that God took a coffee break during the creation process, somewhere during the “let’s make a million insects” stage, and the devil, always looking to louse life up, took this chance to slip in his favorite human nemesis, the tiny yet all powerful mosquito.

Have you ever been in bed, possibly with the person you adore, relaxing after a perfect day, both having similar thoughts rhyming with “vex?” Suddenly the spell is broken by a small, unforgettable sound, a sound unlike any other, a sound guaranteed to drive humans insane instantly?

Yes, the sound of a single blood-thirsty, unseen flying vampire. The most unnerving of insects. The mosquito.

There is nothing so small that so completely devastates romantic notions. The lights go on and you leap around the room naked, thrashing with pillows any speck that moves, and in the process manage to knock over the wine bottle, break a wine glass, and knock ice all over the bed. Your partner suddenly realizes that you’re not the mild mannered lover hoped for, but a mutant life form from another galaxy suddenly revealed for its maniacal manner.

Yes, such are the memories that enduring relationships are built from.

Please, somebody give me one logical, perhaps practical explanation for the mosquito’s existence besides punishing humans who wander into their flight paths. No, I don’t buy that mosquitos are food for fish. No self-respecting fish is going to dine on those minuscule skinny insects unless they are in the mood for a blood soaked hors d’oeuvre. No, the only thing mosquitos do is suck other creatures blood, leave an unending itchy reminder of why we hate them, and by the way, spread terrible diseases.

Yes, I’m a hypocrite. In spite of my dubious desire to harm no other creatures, I make an exception for mosquitos, and beg the Dali Lama’s pardon. I would find it much easier to be happy in this world if all the mosquitos are banished to That lost island in the Arctic where they can feed on all those yippie chihuahuas to their heart’s content.

There. I feel so much better. Who knows, having vented my rage against these two lowest of life forms, perhaps I can now elevate my consciousness to higher thoughts and eventually find my way back on the path to happiness.

Maybe, but first I need to find the bug spray and throw rocks at the neighbor’s dogs.

Yours to count on,

Tio Stib