"Every child should have mudpies, grasshoppers, waterbugs, tadpoles, frogs, mud turtles, elderberries, wild strawberries, acorns, chestnuts, trees to climb, animals to pet, hayfields, pinecones, rocks to roll, sand snakes, huckleberries and hornets. Any child who has been deprived of these has been deprived of the best part of his education." Luther Burbank, 1849-1926
About a year and a half ago, Chelsea received this unique gift as a joke from a caring cousin who was thinking of her as he strolled through an exotic bug show in Salt Lake. It was a Vietnamese Centipede. You most likely have never seen one of these unless you have been to our house or the Hogle Zoo. They are a very interesting arthropod that eats crickets, cock roaches, and yes, even baby mice. They are large, aggressive, and medically significant. They are found throughout the worlds' tropical and subtropical regions, especially in Southeast Asia.
"The Vietnamese Centipede is the only species that has a human death attributed to it. The only reported fatal case was in the Philippines; the centipede bit a seven-year old girl on her head, and she lived for another 29 hours. Even though death from a bite of the Vietnamese Centipede is almost unheard of, the venom is said to cause extreme pain, therefore you want to exercise care with this centipede."
The person who sold it to cousin Steele said that in his military experience, he had been shot with a gun and stung by one of these critters. Between the two, he would take the gunshot any day because it was less painful. Wow.
You can imagine my horror/delight when Chelsea moved home and brought the "thing" with her. My biggest fear was that its cage might get knocked off the shelf or carelessly left open. Or perhaps when feeding it or changing its water or bark, it might escape or bite.
Chelsea lined the cage with about two inches of shredded bark. Sometimes when walking by the cage you would think that there was nothing inside because the centipede would burrow itself deep down under the bark with not a piece of it showing. Pretty freaky.
Sometimes when Chelsea would feed it, Mr. V.C. would lunge on the food very aggressively, clasping it with eight or so of its legs and pass it right on up its legs until it reached its mouth, sswallowing the food whole.
I had a love/hate relationship with this "thing." I hated it because it was such a dangerous, disgusting looking arthropod for which I felt responsible and liable, but I loved watching it because it was so interesting.
Its cage sat on top of a bookcase in the library about chest high. Each time I walked through the library to the craft room (which is many, many times a day), I would watch it. And I would stare at it to see what it was doing. I didn't realize how much time I spent looking at it until Chelsea moved back to Salt Lake and took the "thing" with her. I suddenly realized how much I missed it and enjoyed observing it. Oh my. I felt a void in my life, believe it or not!
When she returned Mr. V.C. and its cage last fall to be in a warmer environment through the winter, I felt the love/hate thing all over. And once again I watched it, fascinated by all those legs and mean pincers in front and back.
Well, two days ago, Chelsea and I noticed some strange behavior in the cage. Mr. V.C. began marking the perimeter of the whole cage with a clear fluid like substance, much like a dog would mark territory in the forest. We watched it on and off throughout the evening. We had never seen it act like this.
It was an interesting "pet" in a sense, and we learned alot. Its behaviors were fascinating. But now, I can sigh in relief. RIP, Mr. V.C. 2/26/12.
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