Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
I walked out of the office and down the hall toward my bedroom, and it was there on the floor. Alive. Extra large. Not moving.
I stomped the hell out of it and somehow didn't kill it. It ran into my bedroom and underneath the dressing table.
I Usain Bolted to grab the buy spray in the hope that I could flush it out. Squirt . . . squirt . . . squirt . . . under and behind the dressing table. Behind the wardrobe.
It didn't come out. I got a flashlight and lowered myself to my knees to look under the furniture.
Nothing but dust bunnies and dog hair.
Penelope came in to take a look. She's still looking. She must remember the time she killed a palmetto bug in the office.
Has Penelope become a great black-and-white palmetto hunter? I hope so.
May God be with you on your quest, Penelope.
I'll let you know if we find . . . it, or another of its ilk.
Infinities of love,