Two weeks later: Nothing. It didn’t move, it didn’t breathe, it didn’t walk. It was beginning to look a lot like fungus.
I got a bright idea. We’d deprived the unfortunate creature of its natural habitat. Dew from heaven and what not. It was getting all dried out, poor thing, and would never be able to make it without a few squirts from the water bottle. Mission accomplished. A couple more days passed. I began to think that it was changing colors. I began to think I had a big imagination. I began to think maybe we should throw it away.
Then I came down the stairs this morning and saw this:
It was amazing. Possibly even better than an African Swallowtail butterfly. Who knew so many babies could come out of one little . . . cocoon? Hm, they looked kinda hungry. I wonder what they eat. So, I looked it up. Apparently, aphids and fruit flies were on the menu for the day. That sounded hard. So, I looked up a little more. Ah! Here we go.
Raw hamburger meat.
No, really. That’s what it said. So, I tried it. Got out a frozen package and a serrated knife and started sawing away. My dog was impressed, and my arm hurt a little, but the babies didn’t seem too appreciative.
So, where are the one hundred odd praying mantises now? Out. Free. Set loose in the great, wide world to fend off the birds and chipmunks. Off to do war against the ants and hide from the bumble bees. I wish I had a little itty bitty camera to strap to one of them and see life from a mantis’s point of view. Some things are even better than African Swallowtail butterflies. Some things surpass expectations.
