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Recently, it’s been raining a lot. That means lots of snails on the sidewalk, and so, sometimes, after a rain, I go snail hunting.

These little guys, they’ll get to the middle of the sidewalk, and go to sleep when the rain stops and the clouds part. There, they’ll either be stepped on, or cook alive in the sun, or get eaten by birds (usually one, then the other). Often I’ll just pick them up and throw them on the grass to save them from this fate.

I rescued a ton this week, since I’d been looking to replenish my West Indian Bulimulus rout. They are sturdy little fellas and live a long time when properly cared for. One of my recent rescues has a bit of an enthralling story (for a snail.)

It’s this little guy, one of the smallest of his species that I have ever come across:

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I only really spotted him because he was covered in black ants. 😱 I was sure he was dead/half eaten, but I got all the ants off somehow, including a persistent one that had made its way inside his shell. I took him home anyway. My guess is he was, maybe, 20 seconds away from being eaten.

An hour after I put him in the tank at home, he’d moved to the top of the lid, and hid. I didn’t get to see him move, but I knew he was alive!

I coaxed him out once he had some time to rest. He was in perfectly fine shape:

I’m sure he didn’t even know that he was seconds from being devoured quite literally alive. I hope he grows big and strong in his new digs. 😊 For now he’s in the quarantine tank with my other snails, being dewormed and making sure he has no other parasites.