URBAN BESTIARY

While Jordan mentioned the rat, I was disappointed to see that he missed my all-time favorite, the flying rat. I have a particular fondness for the pigeon ( Rattus airbornius ), as a family have made the eaves over my front door their beach house with a view. I have nothing against these repulsive rodents of the realm, yet in weaker moments I’d gladly trade them for a host of your Argentine ants. The occasional clump of dirt I toss lovingly at my friends in the gentle suggestion that they move up the coast to tonier digs has proved futile. So has a letter to my apartment manager. Therefore, I am left to hearing them scratch in the siding, nuzzle in the night and hosing their lovely white spots off my front porch.

I suppose they’re better than having bats in the belfry, though the situation is rapidly propelling me to that state myself. Therefore, I shall smile and continue to appreciate my small segment of the “urban bestiary,” and pray their white spots forever hit the porch and not my head.

MARSHALL COLT, Santa Monica