LOVE THE ROLY-POLYS
In the course of my brick repair work, I have probably encountered thousands of pillbugs, aka “roly-poly bugs,” armadillo bugs, potato bugs, wood lice.
Harmless and winsome creatures that they are, I have taken pains to protect them wherever I’ve encountered them, usually at a below-ground level of some masonry construct, but often many stories up in the air, living and thriving in opened mortar joints between bricks or stones.
I accommodate my friends, the pillbugs, by not mortaring up the entrances to and exits from their homes. I figure they have just as much right to live as I do. Saw last week a fat mama pillbug giving her baby some air, and found the sight heartwarming, mama having emerged from her opened brick mortar joint for the very first time with her child, this tiny rendition of herself, the young one for the very first time seeing and feeling the light and warmth of a bright spring day. I could have brushed them both to the ground, some 20 feet below, but mother and baby would have become separated then, and I could not have that. Instead, I put my pointing trowel near their feet, and they instantly heeded my nonviolent intrusion, and took off into the nether cracks of the masonry, safely, together.
Pillbugs are my friends because, along with spiders and caterpillars, they’re often the only company provided me during a day’s work on old masonry. I protect all of these creatures just because it’s the right thing to do in my mind. If someone were invading my home for some reason, I would want the invaders to at least make an effort to protect me and Toni. As a regular invader of insect habitats, I figure I owe the bugs I’m disturbing some top-notch courtesy.
Pillbugs are not “insects,” actually, but crustaceans, more closely related to shrimp and crayfish than to any kind of insect.
Moist environments are required if you’re planning to keep pillbugs as pets, which I am considering, because I like them so much. Pillbugs breathe through gill-like structures to exchange gases, although unlike fish, they can’t survive underwater. They require a very moist habitat with limited light. Your basement and ours ought to do them well.
Pillbug mothers carry their eggs in a pouch, like crabs and other crustaceans. The baby pillbug remains, upon hatching, in the pouch for several days.
Pillbugs don’t pee. They can pass ammonia directly through their exoskeletons. I envy them this. Pillbugs can drink with their mouths and their anuses. You might try this trick at home, but I think you’d not have much luck.
Pillbugs are true blueboods, unlike English royalty. Their blood contains copper ions instead of iron. I want my three readers (that includes you, Mom) not to go around squishing my crustacean companions just to see the color of their blood. Just take my word for this.
The ball shape a pillbug will assume when threatened is called “conglobulation.”
A pillbug has a three-year lifespan, and eats feces, mold and “leftovers.” I don’t know exactly what the online site meant by “leftovers.” This is a somewhat incongruous assertion. I love eating leftovers, but tend to steer clear of feces and mold. Am peripherally acquainted with some stupid individuals to whom I might suggest their devourment of these last two items, but this is perhaps not the space to elucidate.
In summary, pillbugs do human beings no harm, and their menu suggests that they are, in fact, beneficial to us bipeds. I will go so far as to call them “cute,” and to declare this month National Pillbug Appreciation Month.
If you see my friends crawling about, please make an effort to keep them safe. And tell them I said hi.
In the course of my brick repair work, I have probably encountered thousands of pillbugs, aka “roly-poly bugs,” armadillo bugs, potato bugs, wood lice.
Harmless and winsome creatures that they are, I have taken pains to protect them wherever I’ve encountered them, usually at a below-ground level of some masonry construct, but often many stories up in the air, living and thriving in opened mortar joints between bricks or stones.
I accommodate my friends, the pillbugs, by not mortaring up the entrances to and exits from their homes. I figure they have just as much right to live as I do. Saw last week a fat mama pillbug giving her baby some air, and found the sight heartwarming, mama having emerged from her opened brick mortar joint for the very first time with her child, this tiny rendition of herself, the young one for the very first time seeing and feeling the light and warmth of a bright spring day. I could have brushed them both to the ground, some 20 feet below, but mother and baby would have become separated then, and I could not have that. Instead, I put my pointing trowel near their feet, and they instantly heeded my nonviolent intrusion, and took off into the nether cracks of the masonry, safely, together.
Pillbugs are my friends because, along with spiders and caterpillars, they’re often the only company provided me during a day’s work on old masonry. I protect all of these creatures just because it’s the right thing to do in my mind. If someone were invading my home for some reason, I would want the invaders to at least make an effort to protect me and Toni. As a regular invader of insect habitats, I figure I owe the bugs I’m disturbing some top-notch courtesy.
Pillbugs are not “insects,” actually, but crustaceans, more closely related to shrimp and crayfish than to any kind of insect.
Moist environments are required if you’re planning to keep pillbugs as pets, which I am considering, because I like them so much. Pillbugs breathe through gill-like structures to exchange gases, although unlike fish, they can’t survive underwater. They require a very moist habitat with limited light. Your basement and ours ought to do them well.
Pillbug mothers carry their eggs in a pouch, like crabs and other crustaceans. The baby pillbug remains, upon hatching, in the pouch for several days.
Pillbugs don’t pee. They can pass ammonia directly through their exoskeletons. I envy them this. Pillbugs can drink with their mouths and their anuses. You might try this trick at home, but I think you’d not have much luck.
Pillbugs are true blueboods, unlike English royalty. Their blood contains copper ions instead of iron. I want my three readers (that includes you, Mom) not to go around squishing my crustacean companions just to see the color of their blood. Just take my word for this.
The ball shape a pillbug will assume when threatened is called “conglobulation.”
A pillbug has a three-year lifespan, and eats feces, mold and “leftovers.” I don’t know exactly what the online site meant by “leftovers.” This is a somewhat incongruous assertion. I love eating leftovers, but tend to steer clear of feces and mold. Am peripherally acquainted with some stupid individuals to whom I might suggest their devourment of these last two items, but this is perhaps not the space to elucidate.
In summary, pillbugs do human beings no harm, and their menu suggests that they are, in fact, beneficial to us bipeds. I will go so far as to call them “cute,” and to declare this month National Pillbug Appreciation Month.
If you see my friends crawling about, please make an effort to keep them safe. And tell them I said hi.