A disgusting day (or a disgusting tiny bit of a day)

There are many substances, mostly bodily excrescences, excretions, exudates,  or effluvia related to my job that some folks find abhorrent.  I can deal with them all.  Before I became a nurse, I was a little worried about vomitus, but I have even gotten used to that, and now view it with dispassion.  But there is one thing that really fills me with absolute revulsion.  Not bodily debris, but  an everyday, run of the mill moth.  They are horrid, evil seeming things covered with horrible hair!  They flutter and flap about, scattering moth dust in their wake.  Ugh!  Disgusting! One evening, years ago, I sitting in the garden with Dennis, and admiring a hummingbird, when I noticed that it was flapping and flopping oddly and in a very unbirdlike way.  Suddenly, at the same time, we realized that it was not a hummingbird at all, but was a giant moth!  Horrible!  Dennis was delighted and intrigued at the discovery, but I ran into the house gagging. How can such a beautiful little creation be so utterly repellent? 

When Rebecca lived in the bedroom was next to mine, she dealt with all moths.  Occasionally, I would have to wake her in the middle of the night to come and get rid of one which had invaded my territory.  She would lovingly and carefully capture it to take outside and set free, while I watched on in fascinated disgust.  And Farnaby Ross, the perfect cat, was a very good moth-er.  I would simply point a moth out to him, and in seconds it would be gone.  Yum!  For an hour or two, I rejected his kisses, but I petted and caressed him so that he would know that he had been a good boy.

When I got up this morning, I looked at the greasy butter dish I had left in the kitchen sink the evening before, and…….    Blech!  There was a moth stuck to it.  Gently wafting its wings, ever so slightly.  I was horrified, and debated what to do.  Rebecca was not there, nor was Farnaby. I knew that Margaret would be of no help.  She is a good mouser, but seems to feel as I do about moths.  I could barely bring myself to look at the dreadful little creature, let alone pick up the dish and dispose of it, but finally managed to do so.  Ick!  What a start to the day.  Happily, the remainder of the day did not live up to the unpromising start, and was instead quite pleasant.

The moral of this story:  Never leave dirty dishes in the sink overnight.  Not even one butter plate.
PS  Top photo is Farnaby Ross, the perfect cat.  The moth mentioned was too disgusting to photograph, so I have provided a more agreeable substitute.