There’s lots of things Minnie can’t stand, but right near the top of the list, probably, is flies.
Where did that come from?! she yelled one night last week when she seen one fly in front 
of the TV. She jumped off the coach, rolled up a Canadian Tire flyer and started chasin’ the fly around the house, swattin’ at every door casing along the way.
Well that tells me there must be a hole in one of them screens, she says.
But hang on now, I think to myself. Her sayin’ there must be a hole in of them screens is only one step removed from her tellin’ me to go around and fix ‘em.
No, that’s my fault, I said. When I came in the house there before, I thought there was a fly that snuck in with me. I seen one out of the corner of my eye, but when I went to swat at him, I couldn’t find him anywhere. That must be it.
She shot me a suspicious stink-eye, but went right back to chasin’ down the fly, until she finally squished him on the window above the kitchen sink.
The next night after supper, we’re sittin’ at the table and there’s three flies buzzin’ around the kitchen.
What in the hell is this?! Minnie says, and she starts swattin’ at them with whatever’s handy. A dishcloth and and oven mitt and, for some reason, the broom.
Either there’s screens busted, or them flies are feastin’ on garbage somewhere in here! says. I love when Minnie gets worked up and says things like “feastin’ on garbage”.
So of course, next thing ya know, I’m on screen repair duty. And wouldn’t ya know it, the first screen we take a look at – the one in the kitchen, got a big hole right in the bottom corner of it.
Seein’ my opportunity to get out of the house, I declared that we’d need new screen mesh from Home Hardware and I headed for the door. I expected Minnie would realize it was Sunday night and none of the stores were open, but I guess she was so distracted by the flies all she said was – Well get some fly traps while you’re there.
I’m not gonna lie, I dilly-dallied my arse off once I got out the door. I went to the Horton’s drive-tru, ran into Tommy in the parkin’ lot, talked about the last time we went fishin’, went through the drive-thru again before I left, then stopped at a corner store.
Yis got any fly traps? I said.
The old fella looked at me like I had ten heads. A whuh? What’s a fly trap? he said. Lookin’ to catch a pet fly, are ya?
Of course, when I say fly trap, I mean them brown coils of sticky paper ya hang from the ceilin’ that the flies get stuck on. But I didn’t get the chance to explain it.
I got mousetraps, he said. How big are yer flies?
Anyways, I ended up goin’ to three different places before I finally found a corner store that had them. The package had about an inch of dust on them so when I finally got home and we opened them, it was no surprise they were all dried out and stuck to the package. We ran one under the tap to loosen it up and hung it from the ceiling about halfway uncoiled, right pathetic. Then I watched a fly land on it, wriggle for a second, and fly away again.
Them things are no good! Minnie said. Where were ya for an hour if all the stores were closed?
So the next day I go out and get some new ones and, after gettin’ the damn things stuck to my hands puttin’ them up, there’s a bunch of them hung all over the house and the flies are landin’ on them left and right.
Of course, the first few mornings they were up, I forgot about them, and I’d come stumblin’ into the kitchen lookin’ for my cuppa tea and *smack* I’d walk right into one of them and the sticky brown coil would be all stuck to my face. Let me tell ya, them things ain’t that easy to get off your face. To make it even more gross – and I guess I never realized this before – most of the flies on the thing were still alive, buzzin’ and wrigglin’ like crazy to get free because they never starved to death yet.
Thankfully, Minnie never said nothin’ when I just taped over the holes in the screen rather than puttin’ new screens in. And while I was doin’ that and puttin’ the fly traps up, she was searchin’ high and low all over the house for the garbage where them flies were livin’.
I kept tellin’ her, the dog probably just took somethin’ from the garbage and snuck away with it somewhere. But she knew better than that. And three days in, she found what she was lookin’ for.
One night last week I was watchin’ a Steven Seagal movie on TV and eatin’ a plate of chicken wings. When I finished, rather than walk them all the way out to the kitchen I just slipped the plate full of bones under my chair. I swear to cripes, I meant to take them out with me. I just didn’t want Minnie walkin’ by in the meantime and seein’ how many I ate. But when the movie was over I forgot about it, and a week later we got a house full of flies.
She hauled out the plate and cursed up and down about what a disgusting mess it was.
Well, I said (takin’ my chances) if he managed to hide a whole plateful of bones under the chair, I guess that dog’s smarter than we think.
John McNeil 