Earlier this year a wide, deep concrete drain was constructed in our small neighbourhood. This seven-foot wide, possibly four-foot deep waterway, running alongside and behind the house, replaces what was once a small drain that often babbled pleasantly through grass and amidst trees (many of which were cut to make way for the new concrete Goliath).
The current waterway is so large that unless there is constant, heavy rainfall, the scant water in it cannot flow; it gathers in stagnant pools which are havens for breeding mosquitoes.
Seeing a mosquito in the house was a rare sight; now, what feels like clouds of them, swarm irritatingly around if one sits still for too long a period. Because of this, I purchased my first ever mosquito zapper a few days ago.
Most people I know love the experience of zapping mosquitoes with the tennis racket-shaped device designed for that purpose. The quick, sharp packety-pak-pak sound of mosquitoes being "fried" by the electric current, accompanied by multiple fiery sparks is akin to what may be, for some, the video-game pleasure of obliterating objects on the screen, accompanied by exciting sound and visual effects.
The "electric death" is instant, so mosquitoes probably do not know what hit them (literally) when zapped. Studies have shown that, contrary to popular belief, mosquitoes do feel pain and react to painful stimuli by avoiding future contact with the source of torture. Their sensory systems are designed to identify specific humans through a range of factors such as body temperature, odour, carbon dioxide from our breath, etc. As such, mosquitoes can remember and identify any individual who has previously been defensive against them (swatting, slapping, zapping) and avoid that individual at all costs. I question this theory as I sit here writing, mosquitoes playing around my legs, one singing in my right ear. They clearly do not remember or identify me as the one who recently zapped a few of their relatives with my new "weapon." Either that, or they are laughing, knowing they are safe from the zapper, which I have chosen not to use once my dogs are inside.
This mosquito zapper is the first my seven-year-old dog Venus has ever experienced. Upon hearing the volley of "shots" as multiple "mozzies" fried in my inaugural racket sweep, Venus jumped up from her sleep and quickly darted away, tail between legs, eyes filled with fear and confusion.
“Fireworks in July?” she seemed to say.
Only then (for the first time ever) did I equate the sound of zapped mosquitoes with the rapid ceasefire explosions characteristic of fireworks. Albeit on a smaller, softer scale, the zapper’s quick, light pop-pop-pop-pop noises must be, for many dogs, a trigger for terror, reminiscent of the much louder bangs of "festive" explosives.
[caption id="attachment_966136" align="alignnone" width="541"] -[/caption]
Venus now only needs to see me hold the racket and she cowers. My other dogs and cats (and those of many others, I have learned) also fear this the rapid pops of “the racket.”
