Be careful what you wish for

About a month or so ago, I was discussing clicker beetles with a friend. I think it was Sarah. I know it was a phone conversation. I remember saying, “I wish I could find one of them outside. I’d actually bring it inside for Gracie.” That’s because a clicker beetle, so called because of the clicking noise it makes when it jumps, leaps pretty high into the air—several inches, in fact—and a couple have found their way into my home and entertained Gracie for hours at a time.

Well, last night, I went to sleep. Late. But about thirty minutes after I fell asleep, something woke me up. I kept hearing a noise, a very repetitive noise, and it sounded like Gracie was grooming her claws. Sometimes a cat makes a clicking sound as they clean their pads and pull on their claws. This one was loud, regular, and coming from the side of my bed. Tig was sleeping to my right, and Gracie was nowhere to be seen, so I yelled at her to settle down. She ignored me. I grabbed a flashlight because I don’t think very clearly when I’m woken up half an hour after I’ve fallen asleep. I saw nothing. No Gracie, nothing. I turned on the light and saw the beetle, which then tried to make a break for it.

I did not save it for Gracie. I threw it in the toilet and flushed. And went back to sleep, without any annoying clicking noises going off three feet away from me.