Frank LLoyd Wright, et al.

Frank Lloyd Wright is living on my walls. He is a 5 inch lizard (or other reptile creature). He is brown, has black eyes, and is very ugly. I first encountered Frank Lloyd Wright last night as I was brushing my teeth. Three minutes later, I met his girlfriend, Charlotte, who was a spider and who is, coincidentally, now dead. I stepped on her.

Theoretically, I don't mind Frank Lloyd Wright; in practice, however, I hate him. He is invading my personal space and I feel the need to demonstrate my dominance over him by way of flashy displays of territorial control. These include kicking the door repeatedly to scare him away, watching him out of the corner of my eye while pretending to not watch him, and jumping on my bed each time I discover him in a new location. I can't help thinking that he will fall on my face in the middle of the night or poop all over my clothes. Of course, I prefer to know exactly where he is at all times, rather than not see him. Out of side means he could be falling on my face.

Frank Lloyd Wright has a cousin who lives downstairs in the kitchen. His cousin is nameless and is a salamander undoubtedly because he has lost his tail once already and is in the process of growing it back. Cool. Too bad Frank is not as cool. Frank is not a salamander and is ugly.

Also in attendance in my room, though briefly (I hope) was the mouse (who was really a rat, but I refused to call him so). He was only renting for a day, and though we barricaded him into the bathroom, he mysteriously disappeared through alternative routes by the next day. He did not pay room or board.

Lastly in my room, though in numbers certainly not leastly, is Ant Colony Number 134 who inhabits the top shelf of my bookcase and travels in marching formation from the ceiling hole to the hole in the corner of the shelf. They seem to be carrying materials upwards. I suspect they are building the Antilian Pyramids on our roof.

Outside is a different story. It appears that the Montague-Capulet feud, perpetuated by the Jets and Sharks, has found new roots in the dog gangs that patrol the streets of Doyans Gated Community, Gachibowli, Hyderabad, India. Sunning themselves by day, the 30 or so dogs of our neighborhood by night have serious bones to pick (har har) with each other. It sounds like territorial mayhem, barking competitions, and whimpering practice all at once, each night from around 3-6am.

In addition are the mooing-barking cows. Unsurprisingly, there are lots of cows here. The cows of America who complain of bad housing should come over to India where they are literally seen as God. At night the cows like to express their godly status through loud bark-moos. Also they have become used to cars and people and like to stand--or even better, sit--in the middle of the roads. Of all obstacles, either moving or stagnant, cows have the ultimate right of way on the roads of India.

Let's not forget about the wild boars that travel in packs around campus, eating whatever remains in the burning garbage heaps.

Such is an account of the animals I encounter in my life here on a daily basis. Please stay tuned for more fun adventures with Frank Lloyd Wright, now in mourning for the recently deceased Charlotte.