I rescued a little moth. Or drove it crazy, or both.
So this little moth was inside last night. I decided to do the rescue thing, put a plastic vessel over it and set it free outside. Well, this became a war of wits, and one of us was outmatched.
I managed to get the funnel shaped, measuring thing over it a few times but hadn't prepared enough, didn't have the sliding closure paper or whatever to contain it, thinking I could cup my hand over the opening, but the moth was too quick and had streamlined little wings not the big floppy ones.
It started alighting on the ceiling, so I used a yardstick to nudge it, and it kept using its brains to find ever other places to light, mostly high up, on the side of the light fixture, at the rear of a shelf rack, really ingenious. And I started to feel like a torturer, with my probing yardstick menacing it. What was it thinking, "Here comes that relentless long, thin thing!1"
It took 10-15 minutes, and finally it lighted on the side of a can, as in canned food, which I was able to pick up without its flying away and hold it outside the door. So when I slammed the door, the thing tried to get back inside and lighted on the screened door (outside).
Later trying to fall asleep, I wasn't spooked by something fluttering on my arm since it was clearly a moth, not harmful, and the flashlight showed it to be a smaller one than the other one, not the same one. My rescue efforts were done with, so this one is somewhere still inside.
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If I were you, I'd brace myself for the *shudder* MOTHNADO! 