The assumption might very well be correct, and it wouldn't be the first time. (I recall going rabbit hunting in a back alley a couple of years back. My daughter was carrying a fishing net and wearing some bizarre assortment of clothing--a bicycle helmet, perhaps, with shorts and a raincoat and her favourite green goggles. My choice of clothing wasn't much better.)
This time, however, my quarry is not rodent. It is the common house fly.
Thanks to a science-loving neighbour, our household is currently raising four praying mantises. And they are making me terribly nostalgic: I lovingly reared a mantis into adulthood when I was a young teenager in a room lined with snake tanks and salamanders, turtles, and fish. That summer, my little brother and I spent much of our time in the washrooms of family camp and various campgrounds catching dozens of flies to feed to our dear pets. Mine thrived; his was left in the hot sun by a mantis-sitter whose mother didn't want an insect in the house. (Poor Brent has never forgotten this betrayal.)
Mantises are voracious predators (though harmless to humans). What draws me in even today is how their savagery is combined with seemingly impeccable manners. They say "grace," as my little daughter observed. They eat blue bottles like corn on the cob, often stopping to casually groom one arm even as their half-eaten meal struggles in the other. They eat slowly, and with relish. Just yesterday a mantis began his meal by delicately eating the foot off a fly, much like a human might pick at the choicest bit of meat.
Unfortunately (and where humans might grow queasy), their prey is alive. These insects are not known for their empathy. And at the end of the meal, the bottom of the jar is lined with discarded wings and legs.
But really, how different is that from chicken wings at the local pub?
These unusual pets have brought great joy to our household. "Maria" is the favourite by far. She is the most voracious mantis, staring longingly through the glass into the vase containing the flies of the more ambivalent "James" (formerly known as "Gary"). She repeatedly jumped onto the camera when I attempted to photograph her and loves walking across my children's faces, to their delight.
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| "Maria," hoping in vain for a fly |
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| Laid-back "James" (a.k.a. "Gary") just hanging out |
"Lola" and "Anna" (formerly known as "Lily" and "Billy" respectively) like to swivel their heads and stare at us. They're more cautious, more dainty, more willing to pick at the wingless fruit flies we offer than to attempt to wrestle down the blue bottles that Maria tackles.
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| Maria's impeccable table manners |
Mantises, I will confess, are highly addictive. They are much like video games: you must feed them to get to the next "level" or molt. (See Molting Mantis) And they're a lot like kids: they grow up so fast. One day they're nymphs, and the next they're the length of your hand and free to wander the house, picking flies off windows like teenagers popping potato chips into their mouths.
I still recall the day my childhood mantis passed. She was drooping, and when she refused to eat even a single fly, I knew something was terribly wrong. I left her on the fence that day, at one with nature. She died a few hours later. My science teacher, amazed by her impressive size, preserved the body in a jar of formaldehyde.
Call me eccentric, but I love sharing this passion with my children. And I have passed three additional mantises over to my delighted brothers. (How touching that whereas a neighbour once murdered an innocent mantis due to her belief that a mantis is not fit to live among humans, an entirely different neighbour is now spreading the mantis love, blessing her community with over a hundred voracious souls!)
One of the mantises I transported to Edmonton is now living among doctors in an undoubtedly expensive vase lined with the best mulch and branch that money can buy. The other two, forbidden to enter the house of my little brother due to the good sense of his wife, are now living at the Edmonton Journal, most likely providing great insight into the crime beat.
