It all started when my dog, a little, black and brown dachshund with a white tummy, yelped. My best friend screeches. I wonder what happened. Jackson, (my dog) runs to the door, which is really rare. My friend pulls out a bee from her hair. This makes her rub her head and mumble “Ow!” under her breath. We run inside and try to calm down. I take a look at her head while my dog licks his thigh. Lauren’s scalp is as red as a ripe tomato but luckily as flat as a wall. Her hair dotted with red. I call my mother, who is at work, because I have no idea about how to treat a bee sting, being it has never happened to me. While I am on the phone, Lauren screams a little louder. I say, “Hold on Mom,” and ask Lauren why she is screaming. She states that there is a bee in her jacket, although I see no such thing. She whips off her jacket and sure enough a little black and yellow, fuzzy, buzzer flies out. This obviously freaks us out, so I hang up the phone. She and I run away from the bee. It finally lands in the middle of the floor. I look around me for something to kill it with, but by the time I find an object that can squish the bee, it is flying towards the lamp. Where it begins hovering, buzzing as if it were mad. When it lands inside the lamp, Lauren and I put a pillow over the top so the bee is trapped. I pick up the phone in order to telecommunicate with my mom. She tells me to get some ibuprofen for Lauren, and to mix water and baking soda to lather on Jackson where he was stung. I got the ibuprofen for Lauren, which she refused to take, then mixed up the concoction to put on Jackson. He did not take kindly to this. Lauren and I had to both hold him in order to put the mixture on him, but then also to make sure he didn’t try to eat it. While I held Jackson's head, Lauren calls her dad informing him of the events, and she asks him to come and pick her up. He says he is on his way, but still 30 minutes out. We wait and wait, trying to keep calm and converse via small talk. We find out that the bee has left a bump on her head. Her dad finally shows up, taking her away, leaving me alone to care for Jackson. His black-brown coat, is slathered and spotted with white paste. My mom finally comes home and looks at Jackson. He seems to be a little better, but he also seems really lethargic. He probably seems better, because he is calm. I must continue to hold him, for if I don’t he will spin like a top and lick the paste off in a matter of seconds. With having to hold Jackson and medicate him, by myself, I had spilled a bit of the gooey, white glop on the floor. I had to act quickly to hold my dachshund and wipe the floor at the same time. The pain for both dog and human, lasted a couple of days or so, but after about a week everyone was okay. We let the bee sit in the lamp for about two or three weeks, just to make sure he was dead. After about 4 weeks, my wonderful mother, who had helped us at a time of pain, tipped over the lamp and threw away the dead bee. It’s probably a good thing the bee did not live, because it did not succeed at life. Luckily there was no smell of decaying bee, for if there was one, Jackson would be climbing on the maroon couch, full of blankets, pillows and people all day long. There was no smell, other than the repulsing smell of baking soda and water paste; the smell of a cooking project gone wrong. After this incident, I hope to never get stung by a bee. Especially if I have to lather such a disgusting plaster on me.
The Little Bee That Could...Not Live
March 16, 2012