For a while now, whenever I discover insects or spiders in the house, I try to release them outdoors. I catch them in a little cardboard jewellery box that has a lid. It’s surprising, but spiders will jump right into the box when you place it beneath them. Hope decorated the box with green on the bottom (like grass) and blue on the inside of the lid (like the sky). Maybe they think that they are free-falling into summer…
I do this because it doesn’t feel right killing
things—even bugs, which can be bothersome and creepy. Keeping this in mind, it’s
probably not that unusual that Hope’s first pet was a cricket. Or rather, nine
crickets. Six of them didn’t make it past two weeks, but two females and a male
lasted several months. Chirpy, the male, died earlier this week. We miss him. He
sang soothingly (and sometimes piercingly!) all winter long. There is one
remaining cricket left. Her name is Longtail. Yesterday, as a treat, we gave
her apple slices and brought her tank out into the living room with us so that she
wouldn’t be lonely.
Is it possible to love an insect? It’s easy to love cuddly animals
like dogs, cats, and bunnies. But insects are different. They never get used to
you. They are always skittish. I know it’s possible for the heart to stretch beyond its boundaries though. An expanded heart feels an interconnectedness with even the most unlikely things. Through this openness, intuitive communication and compassion arises.