Post by astana on Mar 1, 2016 3:20:40 GMT
Sadly, my Vespericola Columbiana, whom I named Solo, has passed away. To be honest, I was expecting for it to happen for a while- he was already around five years old, which was around the age his parents passed away at as well. I wild-caught his parents in Gray Beach, way up there in Washington, and kept them because I was fascinated with the fact that their shells were furry. The many babies that they laid in their terrarium have all been released long ago, after their parents had passed away (they did not have very long lifespans). The only one I kept was Solo.
The sentimental value attached to Solo was enormous. I had raised him from egg to adulthood, carefully figuring out his incredibly pretentious diet, until I finally got him used to normal romaine. I had housed him alone in a little empty tofu container until I deemed him parasite-free, then placed him with a critically endangered Kanab amber snail, named Ebony, who passed away because of her own short ambersnail's lifespan, which I was relieved to discover would not also be Solo's lifespan. Then he moved on to be housed with the baby Helix Aspersas, and despite their similar size, his furry, flattened shell always cued me off that he was not your normal garden snail.
Finally, one week from today, I found that he had passed on in the Bulimulus Guadalupensis terrarium. Solo was a snail that lived to a goodly adult age- as marked by the curled lip of his shell.
And yet, it is not the old, grizzled Solo that I will always remember. His young and sprightly form, with fur just beginning to sprout on his shell, is what I shall always keep in my heart when I think of Solo.
Farewell, Solo. I am both sad that you passed and happy that you had lived such a fulfilling life.