Sticks and snails, and puppy dog tails...

What is the old rhyme?

Sugar and spice, and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of.
Sticks and snails and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are made of. 

Last year, Monkey was really sick.  During his second round of his alopecia treatment, he was also fighting his ump-teenth round of bronchitis that even required an extra night's stay in the hospital because he needed oxygen at night.  It was then that we learned he was allergic to cats and dogs.

As a result, we had to find new homes for our longtime family members Athena (my cat) and Jasmine (our dog).  It wasn't easy, but the immediate improvement in Monkey's health, and an entire year without antibiotics of any kind (knock on wood) made it worth it.  I think he only missed one day of school this year with a stomach virus, and managed to get off his inhalers altogether.  This spring, we really missed our big yellow dog.  But all it took was our Easter visit to Minnesota where we stayed with family that had dogs and we knew we had made the right choice.  Within a few days, he was wheezing and needed his inhalers, and it took six weeks after we came home for him to get over it.

This is a little boy that loves nature.  Both of our boys are at the perfect age where a dog would be their best buddy and partner in crime.  But there will be no fur or feathers for our house anytime soon.

Last Friday, Monkey came home very excited.  He and his friends at school had spent their time at recess hunting for snails.  He found a clear plastic container and set out to the back garden with his little sister in tow, to hunt for his new pet.  They came back empty handed and disappointed.  Another attempt the next morning was equally futile.  But hope was not lost.  Monkey was invited to play at a friend's house for the afternoon, and I knew his friend had a giant garden with all sorts of wildlife.  He took his snail house with him and I explained the situation to his friend's mother.  She said Monkey was welcome to take as many snails as he wanted, as they were eating all of the vegetables and strawberries in her garden.  I told him his quota was three.

Later in the day the father of his friend dropped him off with a sly grin and a cryptic message, "the snails are your problem now."  I didn't even know that snails could grow to be the size of baseballs.   Ok, so that's a slight exaggeration.  But the big one is definitely bigger than a golfball.  Monkey named him "Super Size" and explained that the two baby snails didn't count towards his quota of three, bringing the grand total to five.

Probably, Monkey's new pets would be happier on the patio than anywhere we could find in the house.    We put a table next to the back window on the patio so we can watch the new pets from inside the safety of our house.

I have to admit, that first day, Super Size was pretty exciting to watch.  He was a giant.  He moved all over his new home, exploring his container.  And also, it seems, looking for escape routes as we caught him actually pushing the lid off the top.  The lid was quickly secured with a potted plant and we added a slice of plum to their home to keep them happy.

The next morning, there was nothing.  No movement, nothing.  As the day went on and the snails were silent, I worried that the potted plant had blocked too many of the little air holes.  It appeared as if we had killed the whole lot of them.  We opened the lid to look, and didn't bother to secure it, feeling bad that we had deprived them of precious oxygen.

The next day went by, and after school, Monkey and I went to the patio to deal with the dead snails.  Only, there, sitting next to the container, was Super Size himself, tucked up in his shell taking a nap.  Huh.  It appears as if he hadn't really been dead after all, and took advantage of the small window of opportunity when the container was open, to escape.   Not only did he escape, but he came back to eat the basil from the potted plant.  And being the size of a golfball, he's not exactly inconspicuous.  We left him asleep on the table and took the container to the edge of our driveway to dump the contents by the forest and put in new leaves.  When we dumped the container out, the other two "dead" snails promptly came out of their shells and made a break for it.

It was nice to know we didn't kill them after all.  We cleaned out the snail slime and added fresh nature.  We fed them some basil leaves and named the rest of them.  Monkey returned Super Size to his new home and secured the lid.  Today, Monkey made a "to-go" container and chose one to take to school with him for the day, the one he calls "Speedy."  He was under strict instructions regarding his snail quota.  It's only half-day today, which means less time at recess to hunt for snails, which will hopefully help him abide by the snail quota rules.  We shall see.