This little guy decided to invade the house this evening and was discovered hanging out on the curtains. The question was asked, “According to the Gardener’s Response Chart, what is the proper reaction to this interloper?”
Actually, the initial poser was, “What on earth is that? Is that it hissing??”
June bugs do, indeed, hiss. This makes them alternately intimidating or hilarious, depending on your perspective.
Chickens, for example, will regard a hissing June bug with the same equanimity that your average adult in chore boots views a hysterical Chihuahua. Hens watch for a moment to see if it does any other fun tricks, then dart off with it for a quick snack, generally followed by the rest of the flock, protesting that they were, in fact, intending to eat that bug.
My response tonight was to use a sieve and a jar, and capture it to feed to hens tomorrow. Rosebud reminds me that the first time I encountered one, I was not nearly so calm.
I had been out gardening, and it finally got too dark to see. I gathered my tools and headed for the house. Something tickled my ear; a twig, I thought. Not wanting to stop and set things down,I gritted my teeth and walked faster.
Once in the garage, tools discarded, I finger-combed the “twig” out of my hair. Upon discovering that it was, in fact, a largish, hissing big, I promptly shrieked and threw it as far as I could. After a quick rain dance, it occurred to me that I should probably kill it to prevent it from multiplying. I asked Mr. Caffeinated (who had been watching the proceedings with some amusement) if he’d seen where it landed.
He solemnly informed me that he had not, but based on its speed and trajectory, he guessed, “Kansas”.