About a week ago, in the chilly air of the morning as Carl and the girls were getting ready for school, one of them saw an injured praying mantis in the driveway. It was going to freeze the next day, and no one wanted to see the hurt little mantis end up bird food (how it probably got hurt to begin with) or frozen. So, mom and the kids brought it into Carl's old crab cage (prior home to several hermit crabs, all of whom had went the way of the dinosaur).
The mantis survived the day, and the injured spot, on its abdomen, which was oozing green goo, had begun to heal, and was now a crusty black spot. I'm no entymologist, but this looked like a positive thing.
Next, a debate loomed over whether it was a he or a she. Lara was convinced it was a she, Carl thought it was a he, and I thought that it was probably female, although it was an awfully small one. Its abdomen was pretty large for its size though, and this is the time of year that egg cases are deposited....
Which is exactly what happened after the first full night in her new digs. So, we named her Matilda, and she has been eating pretty healthily for the last few days. We have fed her crickets, mosquito hawks, grubs, moths, and about any other bug we could catch.
Now, isn't it strange, that we can feel compassion for an injured praying mantis and with glee collect an assortment of hapless, no less innocent creatures, to be her food? You don't see us getting another cage out for the abandoned stink bug, do you? People are odd like that.
Matilda, our latest, albeit temporary, addition:
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