“Oh My God, Jeff! Look at this. Is this a snail?”
I am standing on the back porch on a hot summer’s day. I have just been pulling all the weeds out of a garden bed so that I could take pictures of it to update my blog. You read that right, manual garden censoring right here on this blog. I am wearing my green crocs that my dad gave me years ago. Yes, I have the same size feet as my dad, and not because he is a particularly small footed man. What I had mistaken earlier as water of some sort or another has turned out to be a hapless shell-less snail. I am amazed.
“Jeff! Look at this! I noticed some shell-like debris in the garden but thought they were tiny mushrooms. They must have been some snail-shell graveyard.”
I am staring at this poor shell-less snail, slimy in its molluskness. I feel sorry for it and scoop it up to return it to its shell graveyard in hopes it finds a new home. I feel particularly heroic as I have saved it from a certain excruciating demise on my back deck –temperature 48 C.
A few hours later, after having cooled off from the summer’s heat and sipping on some icy lemonade, I ponder this unusual creature and decide to do some research. Yes people. I am the punchline.
The great garden slug that reproduces at an alarming rate and is a gardener’s bad dream has been safely tucked back into its snail-shell graveyard that probably is tiny mushrooms, or perhaps multiple slug eggsacks, who knows at this point…