On September 16, 2021, I published an article titled Rescuing a Ladybug On My Television. As the title suggested, I shared my heroic animal rescue story for the moral betterment of my readers. Unfortunately, I was unable to photograph the ladybug because I selflessly focused on its safety before providing visual documentation of my heroism. I compensated for this oversight by sharing a photograph of a ladybug I had taken outdoors in Texas in 2016 (not a bad photo if I do say so myself).
In September 2021 I rescued one wayward bug. But in September 2026 I rescued two.
On September 16, 2026 – exactly five years to the day I published the story of my 2021 ladybug rescue – another unfortunate ladybug found its way into my room. Instead of taking refuge on my TV, this ladybug found itself about 3-4 feet away on my computer desk. I noticed it walking on my coaster before making its way to the cord of my Breyerdynamic DT-990 PRO headphones. I heeded the bug signal and prepared to transmogrify into my hero form. But before I performed a heroic deed, I first ensured that I would have visual documentation of the soon-to-be-recipient of my heroism. I present a photograph of the ladybug on my headphone cable.
I gently picked up the ladybug with a tissue and deposited it on the windowsill outside. The ladybug, which moved haphazardly and slowly indoors, flew away, hopefully to not again find itself lost indoors.
I am sure that you, the reader, are overawed by my heroic act on September 16, 2026. But a hero’s work is never done. Nine days later, just after 11:00 PM on September 25, 2026, I noticed something green on one of the French doors leading into my room/office.
That appears to be some variety of katydid/bush cricket. This was not the first time one had made its way into my home, but it was the first time in 2026. I had for weeks been hearing katydids singing their beautiful songs outside my window, so I suppose it was not too surprising that one would make its way in my apartment.
From past experience, I knew that katydids are not difficult to rescue. When they are indoors, they move very slowly. In previous one-to-two previous instances that I had sadly failed to document in these pages, I found the bush cricket on my wall. Then, I put a cup or small bowl over it, gently slid a sheet of paper between the bowl/cup and the wall as to not damage the bug’s delicate legs, and took it outside. However, that was not an option in this case due to the topography of my French door and the katydid’s determination to stick close to the window, which would not accommodate a cup or bowl.
The bush cricket was standing motionless when I first noticed it. This was consistent with my experience with them. However, to my surprise, the bug unexpectedly began walking. I took a short video which I converted into a gif so you, the reader, can also experience nature adapting to life indoors.
The bush cricket began climbing my French door very slowly, inching its way to the top. I will note that I have a high ceiling by New York City standards, so it had a long way to go. While it embarked on its journey, I procured supplies for a rescue attempt. From my printer I took a standard-sized sheet of paper and from my cupboard I took a small bowl.
But my first hope was that the katydid would move away from the edge of the widow where I would have enough room to cover it with a small bowl. Unfortunately, it dashed my hope by continuing to stick to the very edge of the windows, depriving me a flat surface that would accommodate covering it.
As it closed in on the top of the French doors, I shifted to plan B. Perhaps it would willingly walk into the bowl. I tried putting the lip of the bowl right above it to see if the Katydid would walk into it. The bug appeared to briefly consider it before demurring and looking for a way around the bowl. This was a thin plastic bowl from Ikea. Apparently bush crickets are uncomfortable with plastic Ikea bowls. Lesson learned.
By this point, the katydid had almost reached the molding above my French doors, and I figured that my task would not be easier if it summited the doors and proceeded to my ceiling. Since it did not want to step into the bowl, I put the bowl down and tested whether it would be willing to trade the French door for a sheet of printer paper. I placed the edge of the paper just above the katydid. It stopped for a moment before seemingly poking the paper once or twice with its leg. It then slowly began walking onto the paper, showing that it preferred paper to plastic.
Once all six of the bush cricket’s legs were firmly on the paper, it was time to move. I gently pulled the paper away from the door, making sure to hold it firm and upright. Fortunately, the bug was cooperative, standing still on the paper. I then carried the paper, with bug, to the other end of the room, where I have a Juliette balcony that once welcomed an autumnal golden maple leaf visitor. I opened the door to the balcony and dropped the paper on the balcony. Almost instantaneously, the katydid, which had been moving slowly and cautiously indoors, took flight and disappeared into the night, reminding me of the time I rescued an Ailanthus Webworm Moth in 2024.
I found the katydid a particularly endearing rescue subject. It struck me as somewhat cooperative once I offered it a sheet of paper as a rescue option – certainly more cooperative than a pigeon I assisted Victor V. Gurbo in rescuing back in 2023. It deliberately climbed on the paper and did not panic when I started moving. It was as if the bug understood that I was on its side. Human and bug worked together to deliver the bug a happily ever after ending. All is well that ends well in a bug’s life.
