Post by etana on Mar 25, 2019 10:20:48 GMT
Okay, this was one of the hardest snail deaths. In the wee hours of the 24th of March, my huge tiger snail Gaius (named after Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Galactica) passed away. I don't know what happened, he stopped moving and eating, and in no more than maybe 2 days he had gone to the place where snails go.
I'd gotten him in the beginning of February 2015, which means I had him for four years, and my understanding is that he was almost five years of age. He was the size of the carrot slice that he'd been packed with. In the end, if he stretched out, he was much bigger than the length of my entire palm and fingers.
I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I actually connected with him. He very obviously enjoyed sitting on my leg. Because I'm weak in the joints and he was very heavy, holding him on my hand for a long time was painful, so as a quite natural consequence, he became my lap snail. I always kept him damp of course, and made sure I didn't have any lotion residue on my legs. Sometimes I would try to return him to the tank, and he would come up to the tank door, pat it with his eyes, and when I opened the door, he would attach to my hand again, wanting to come back to my lap. Many times I abandoned my plans just to hold him for a bit longer, though I regret that during my difficult times in the winter, I didn't do it quite as much as I could have.
He loved water. He would do a hilariously slow happy dance under the tap, and fall asleep in bath tubs with his foot completely stretched out of his shell.
Two summers ago I took him out on a particularly warm night, and showed him some real trees. He stretched up to take a good look, and then attached more tightly to my hand. When we got back indoors, I placed him on my leg, and he spent the next two hours kissing and patting my knee. Yes, two hours, I didn't have the heart to put him back to the tank, as he seemed so happy. I just had my spray bottle nearby.
He was also the nicest, sweetest friend to his tank mates. He was the biggest and heaviest by far, but he would go out of his way to not walk over anyone - he'd walk around them, or actually climb onto walls to avoid it. It was as though he was not very interested in his place in the hierarchy, despite his sheer size and strength. He could have sat on anyone he wanted to, but he just didn't do it. The only snail I ever saw him intentionally sit on with his full weight was the younger tiger snail, Montezuma. He sat with many dying snails, only leaving their side after their hearts had stopped.
---
This is the first time that after the death of an important snail, I don't feel less afraid to get attached to new snails. My heart is very, very broken and my face hurts from all the crying yesterday, but all I can think of is that I want more huge, massive tiger snails in my life, and I want them to be my lap snails, if they too are willing. I'll definitely be getting some new babies once the weather is safer for transporting them.
I'd gotten him in the beginning of February 2015, which means I had him for four years, and my understanding is that he was almost five years of age. He was the size of the carrot slice that he'd been packed with. In the end, if he stretched out, he was much bigger than the length of my entire palm and fingers.
I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I actually connected with him. He very obviously enjoyed sitting on my leg. Because I'm weak in the joints and he was very heavy, holding him on my hand for a long time was painful, so as a quite natural consequence, he became my lap snail. I always kept him damp of course, and made sure I didn't have any lotion residue on my legs. Sometimes I would try to return him to the tank, and he would come up to the tank door, pat it with his eyes, and when I opened the door, he would attach to my hand again, wanting to come back to my lap. Many times I abandoned my plans just to hold him for a bit longer, though I regret that during my difficult times in the winter, I didn't do it quite as much as I could have.
He loved water. He would do a hilariously slow happy dance under the tap, and fall asleep in bath tubs with his foot completely stretched out of his shell.
Two summers ago I took him out on a particularly warm night, and showed him some real trees. He stretched up to take a good look, and then attached more tightly to my hand. When we got back indoors, I placed him on my leg, and he spent the next two hours kissing and patting my knee. Yes, two hours, I didn't have the heart to put him back to the tank, as he seemed so happy. I just had my spray bottle nearby.
He was also the nicest, sweetest friend to his tank mates. He was the biggest and heaviest by far, but he would go out of his way to not walk over anyone - he'd walk around them, or actually climb onto walls to avoid it. It was as though he was not very interested in his place in the hierarchy, despite his sheer size and strength. He could have sat on anyone he wanted to, but he just didn't do it. The only snail I ever saw him intentionally sit on with his full weight was the younger tiger snail, Montezuma. He sat with many dying snails, only leaving their side after their hearts had stopped.
---
This is the first time that after the death of an important snail, I don't feel less afraid to get attached to new snails. My heart is very, very broken and my face hurts from all the crying yesterday, but all I can think of is that I want more huge, massive tiger snails in my life, and I want them to be my lap snails, if they too are willing. I'll definitely be getting some new babies once the weather is safer for transporting them.
