Got Anteaters?

What's the deal with all the ants down here?

They are everywhere. Our corporate housing condo was positively riddled with them. No matter how much time and energy we spent trying to stamp them out, they always came back. And while our new pad is practically ant-free, a sentry did make an appearance at our breakfast table today, and I am seriously concerned that he is the first of millions that will be parading on in once they realize the house is occupied again.

Where is the predator that is supposed to be eating all these guys? And what predator is it anyway? Are anteaters all nature has to offer in this department? Does all ant eradication fall upon his humble shoulders? I find that hard to believe--although it would certainly explain the current state of affairs.

I know, I know—we are at least partially responsible for the situation. Obviously ants don't come to sterile, food-free homes. But we like food. We're not ready to give it up yet.

So we need an anteater. Or several anteaters. I looked on Craigslist for one, because you can find anything on Craigslist, but no, they have no anteaters. So now I'm putting out a plea to you, my friends and family. I need an anteater. Find me an anteater. One of you has got to have a friend that works at a zoo. And every zoo has its bad actors. Its troublemakers. Its discipline problems. I'm not saying steal an anteater. I'm just saying that if you were to offer to take a problem anteater off the hands of the zoo that your friend works at, and were then to ship that anteater to your good friends the Amagasus, well, we'd be grateful. And we'd keep him well-fed. I promise. As far as I can tell, Thousand Oaks is the all-you-can-eat buffet of the anteater world.