My brother Andy recently wrote to tell me about an experience that he had recently.  I asked him if I could share his story.  It is one of a shocking discovery and the resulting painful decision that he was forced to make.  This is his testimony, in his own words:

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A few days ago I saw an ant in my house. 

It was scurrying across the floor.  I assumed that the ant got in when I accidentally left the door between the garage and the house open for a few hours.  I further assumed that it was looking for breadcrumbs, or some other small piece of sustenance to feed its growing family.  Being the kind and thoughtful man that I am, I captured the ant and carried it out to the playground behind my house.  Why should this ant die because of a mistake I made?  Besides, it was living out its own American dream; it was just like me!  I went about my life and bid the ant a happy adieu.

The next day I saw two ants in my kitchen - one on the floor and another on the kitchen counter.  Again, I gave these ants the benefit of the doubt and transported them to greener pastures, as it were.  Once again, they went their way and I went mine.

Last night I saw four ants in my kitchen -- three on the kitchen counter and one on the floor.  With my extensive background in mathematics, I was able to deduce that the number of ants was increasing on the order of 2ⁿ.  This, I figured, was unacceptable.  If such a trend continued, I'd be looking at over a billion ants per day by the end of the month.  Just like in the financial crisis, something had to be done.

I took a good look at the ants.  They all looked the same: black, between 1/4 and 1/2 inch long, a few hairs on their back segment.  Then I saw it... the definitive proof.  In the corner of my kitchen there was a small, triangular hole that the previous owner never sealed when he or she installed the kitchen cabinets.  I saw an ant come out of that hole -- there must have been a nest. 

How dare they?  Didn't they know that I was lovingly transporting their stray brethren to the playground?  I had their best interests in mind, and they decided to ignore that fact and deliberately put me into an ethical dilemma!  Then I realized it; those weren't stray brethren I transported -- they were agents of an ant army whose sole mission was to destroy me.

I did some research: carpenter ants, and I knew where their nest was.  It's ideal when one knows where the nest is, because then there's an easy solution: buy some poisonous dust, spray up their nest, and the problem is over with.  But there's something you may not know about me -- I don't like killing things.  Some people take pleasure in the killing of animals that are supposedly inferior.  I say live and let live.  Furthermore, I have a healthy respect for ants -- they have a social structure that comes straight out of a sci-fi movie.  They're good team players.  They are completely unselfish.  How could I possibly actively commit genocide on a creature that has all the qualities I am lacking?  Besides, I read The Metamorphosis and I felt Gregor's pain.  He was no ant, but a beetle is close enough in my book.

So with this in mind, I opted for the more diabolical approach.  If the colony could survive what was in store, they deserved my house more than I did.  I took a page from the old school and sent in a Trojan horse.  I went to Home Deport and picked up some ant bait.

Ant bait is a substance that looks like food to an ant, but has a slow-acting poison in it.  Ants try it, and if they like it, they take it back to the base to share with their chums.  Since the poison takes time to work its magic, the ants can share to their hearts desire.  I placed a volume equivalent to a one inch diameter sphere near their known nest.  After about two minutes, an ant stopped to check out the new attraction.  The ant took a sample for herself, then brought a little clump back home.  I wondered if the other ants would fall for it.  Certainly if a giant ball of food landed outside of my newly-formed city, I'd be a little apprehensive about having this food become the standard diet for my kingdom.  The ants felt differently.

Within ten minutes, ants were literally streaming out from behind my cabinet to take some of this stuff back home to momma.  The ants were marching one by one, and this was important business, so none of them was willing to stop to suck a thumb.  I was both appalled and impressed.  These ants were incredibly organized.  They would put the soldiers on display at the Beijing Olympics to shame.  At the same time, I was disgusted by their foolishness.  The queen saw a fragile little basket and put all of her eggs in it.  I watched them stream back and forth for a while.  I was getting sick pleasure from watching their actions lead to their own demise.

The ants probably thought it was a blessing!  Now that they had this huge supply of food, they'd be able to branch out, create more colonies, breed a new race of ants.  Satisfied, I went back to bed.

When I woke up, all of the bait was gone.  Today, I didn't see any ants.  Tomorrow, I will seal up that hole.

Thank you, Andy, for sharing your story. 

If anyone is interested in reading my own testimony of how I dealt with a six-legged critter, please read The Bug, The Broom, and Me.