Luckily there was no sting in my bee tale

One of the consequences of the beautiful weather we’ve enjoyed recently is that there are a lot of insects around. Of course they are crucial to our ecosystem but I’m not keen when they make their way into the house.

As I was taking a bath one warm evening, Flossie followed me upstairs to languish on my bed. I was just levering myself out of the bath when I heard a kerfuffle in the bedroom. The sound of thundering paws and Flossie taking giant leaps was slightly alarming.

I hastily grabbed a towel and rushed into the bedroom to discover Flossie in full combat with a bee, enthusiastically attempting to catch it in her mouth. 

I tried not to panic. I am not brave in these situations and was instantly conscious of the vulnerability of my exposed skin to a potential sting.

As Flossie snapped her jaws dangerously close to the bee I shrieked loudly, simultaneously managing to usher her out of the room. 

Shutting myself inside with a now displeased bee, dripping wet and clad only in a bath towel (me, not the bee), was not how I’d planned to spend my evening. However, I thought it might be prudent to open the windows.

Frantically fiddling about one-handed with the strings of my blinds, which were closed, I raised them whilst clutching onto my towel with my other hand. 

I hoped there were no neighbours passing by at that particular moment.

My heart was thumping as the bee hovered menacingly near my bare leg. With some dramatic arm flapping, I successfully flung wide the windows and, emitting small squeaky noises if it ventured near me, gratefully watched the bee as it finally liberated itself. 

What a relief. I swiftly shut all the windows in case it should attempt to re-visit.

On opening the bedroom door I found Flossie calmly lying on the landing looking nonchalant.

I now need to teach her that trying to swallow a bee is not a good idea.