Press Button To Blog - Snail Eggs

Why did the snail take up running? To see if it could escargot faster than the chicken can lay eggs! Ha. Ha. Ha?

In a previous post I explained how I came into possession of a couple of endangered snails. Well, those numbers definitely increased in the intervening weeks. I mean who I am to decide who lives and dies? A politician? Pft. Heck no. So when I came across more gaunt gastropods in dire need of saving, to home they came with me, transported in my pants pocketed from their path that was highly travelled to my much calmer work locker before finally taking the nearly two hour trip to their new home. It's unsaid that part of being a good snail daddy is providing for my unexpected younglings, so that they get a range of food in their newly branching diets. Like many other shell oriented species, snails actually need some of the nutrition found in the shells that come from other animals.

Since I didn't have any cuttlefish on hand, they'd have to make due with the poultry variety. And since I was already cracking it open to grind up the shell, why the hell not see if they'd like some sunny-side egg? I've worked in kitchens, I'm somewhat certain I could cook to a snails discerning taste buds. Which, did you know, snails can "taste" a bit through touching you with their lower tentacles, in a fetish the mollusk world calls "rasping". Basically they're giving you a little gentile gastropod love bite to test if you're worth eating alive as you sleep. I'll let you decide if that makes you like snails more or less. But if Bob next door did that without you asking, you'd probably be calling for those unfortunately defunded police.

As their congratulations-on-not-getting-squished dinner sizzled on the stovetop, I setup my new product lightbox and let my boys roam around to get used to the new scenery, leaving loving slime trails of adoration as they scooted. I'm pretty sure I saw one doing some sick drifts in the shape of a heart, never breaking eye contact with me as he swirled past. You'd think it would be easier to take pictures of snails given their normally lackluster speed, but getting them to even moderately cooperate was a bigger pain than I expected going in. Some of them just sat still and thoroughly enjoyed their hearty meal of unfertilized chicken baby, 'cause hey, what an exotic treat for a fucking snail, while others made mad dashes to the side of the box in futile attempts to crawl upwards to hang off the ceiling like wannabe-bat-snails. And while they don't move fast, they're constantly shifting their heads and eye stalks, so it's frustratingly difficult to align my shots when their appendages are waving in every imaginable direction except for the ones I'd like.

What made this photoshoot even more fun was essentially getting to take my snails out for walks. To them, their epic sprint to leave their nu-family ("new" for those not hip with 2000's metal lingo) was like running a five minute mile. On their mini photoshoot adventure, it was a challenge to block the scene the way I desired, not that I had a particular plan for the impromptu scene. I literally decided to take their pictures when I was cracking shell to pan. But I tried to highlight the gracefulness of their slow, deliberate movements and the closeness they all seemed to have as they collapsed into frequent cuddle puddles, knocking each other over under the weight of one body after another as they all joined up into one Cthulhu-esque monster.

Even though I don't actually want more responsibility in regards to additional long term pets (I already have a cat and a dog), playing with my new friends piqued my curiosity about getting the types of snails that are as big as my hand, like the Australian Trumpet snail or the Horse Conch. Those I might be able to leash and take to the park for a real walk. I think there's only few people in the world (outside of select ten year olds) who genuinely think these make for adorable pets, but I'm definitely one of them, even if I don't want to go through the hassle of owning all of them. Like many boys, when I was little I used to collect bugs like worms, ants and caterpillars I caught during recess in pop bottles I kept by the window. And now as an quote and unquote grown-up, I often find myself wishing I had a bigger collection of insects to model for me. I've got plenty of eggs to share for their right bitey-things. I just find bugs with all of their unique and intricate details fascinating, and they'll always be the perfect subjects for future photoshoots if they'll stay the hell still. I like them even if they vaguely want to eat me, 'cause in all fairness I've had mushroom and escargot in a restaurant before, and it's only natural they'd want revenge eventually. And before this becomes a generational blood feud, I'd rather we get the chance to bury the hatchet now, and what better way to do that then with a full belly?