At home, no shopping spree is complete without visiting the pet store. I love everything about our local shop, from the rats sleeping on each other in the front, to the huge, languid snakes sitting in their water bowls in the back. And the adorable faces of the albino clawed frogs. But I usually find pets in a different part of the store- to me, some of the best pets are also “fodder” for other creatures.

When I went home for Thanksgiving break (feels like a lifetime ago, really), I was elated to find “superworms” (in the frigerator, right next to the horn worms!). Known as Zophobas morio in the entomological world, superworms are desired by herpetologists to feed their reptiles among other things. Anything that would eat a worm I suppose (My dog? Babies? Frat boys? Yes.).

I was very excited to see a particular container of the little freakishly huge larva. You see, when dealing with anything marked as “super-sized,” or other hard to believe/hokey adjectives, I get worried. My main goal with most of my insects is colony establishment, or the assurance that I will have baby insects in the future. I love baby insects. But sometimes things that are super-sized are also sterile mutants. What was so good about these superworms? Well, the container I picked also held within it a super-sized elytron. One singular wing cover was all I needed to go a little crazy with visions of an army of larger than normal beetles housed in my room.

I was hopeful. Hope can be scary sometimes, but I think it’s always better to be hopeful than hopeless. Especially when it comes to the important things in life, like baby superworms wiggling through your future.

So I took my “25 Superworms” home where I only counted 19, but that’s besides the point. New pets! I put them in a two gallon tank with some sunflower seeds, tea leaves, and a loaf of stale Italian bread. While some of them did die off, several managed to construct a network of tunnels in their yeasty new home. They all disappeared for a week or so, and then I had 5 huge tenebrionids and felt a joy not experienced by many.

Things got even better when I was poking around their new and improved tank months later to find some of the smallest meal worms I had ever seen. See?! It pays off to be hopeful. When you’re hopeful, life gives you larvae. At least I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.

What’s really exciting to me at the moment though is that the first worms are now this big, around the size my first ones were when they decided to pupate:

So… soon I could have more beetles. And that’s good! Because more beetles leads to more baby superworms. And who could ever ask for more?

CHALLENGE:

How many superworms can you spot in this photo?!

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if people had to shed their skin like insects, spiders, and other arthropods do. I like to imagine the social implications of the process. For one, there would be people-shaped husks everywhere… “I’m shedding,” would be a legitimate reason for missing class or taking off from work… And heaven forbid somebody move too quickly after molting.

Perhaps I think about this kind of thing too often.

ANYWAY. After a particularly frustrating night of trying to photograph small wasps suspended in ethanol (for which I have nothing to show), I went home defeated. But I wasn’t too upset when I walked into my room to see this:

 After several days of inactivity with me clucking over him worriedly, Roger finally shed!

Insects do not possess the same skeletal system that we’ve come to enjoy as people. Rather, they possess a hardened cuticle composed of chitin called an exoskeleton. The exoskeleton helps them withstand the effects of gravity and dessication, but there is a slight draw back in this kind of living when it comes to growth. As humans, we are constantly shedding skin as we grow, leaving a DNA trail wherever we walk. While our disposal of old skin has some big results, we hardly seem to notice as it’s happening. Insects on the other hand can’t shed their skin cells, but have to molt out of their entire “skeleton” in order to grow properly via a process called “ecdysis”.

A successful molt starts off with fasting and inactivity, called apolysis. During this time, the insect/arthropod begins to separate its body from it’s old epidermal cells by manipulating hormone levels and initiating enzymatic processes. After a successful separation, the creature is still trapped within its old skin. It begins to build a new layer of cuticle, while dissolving the old cuticle with enzymes, namely ecdysone. When the time is right, the arthropod will begin to shuffle about in its skin-prison and break free through a crack in its old armour.

If this is kinda hard to grasp, it would be similar to the sections of an orange pulling away from the rind… only for the orange to grow a new rind and bust out of the old one. The end result would be a bigger orange, and fascinated horror from onlookers.

When an insect emerges from their exoskeleton, or “exuvium, ” as it is now called, they are very vulnerable and squishy. This presents a problem until the new cuticle hardens. Oftentimes, newly molted insects are a different, fun color–hence good ole Roger trading his distinguished sombre black for festive orange, yellow, and red.

An insect in this defenseless position needs to make sure that it does not draw predatory attention to itself, or harden in an odd position, lest it jeopardize its chances of a successful molt the next time it needs to grow. That’s what happened to one of my katydids- his legs hardened in a strange position after a molt (he looked like a bowlegged cowboy). He was able to live just fine until he needed to shed again. Then he died.

After some time passes, the new cuticle will harden and darken and the arthropod will be able to return to normal functions, like moving around, eating, and other arthropod activities (playing in detritus, flying into windshields, congregating at sodium vapour-lamps, etc.).

I’d like to think that Roger would use this as his profile photo on the facebook. Mostly because I’m sure he’s pretty fun-loving once you get past his brutal way of eating.

On a final note, here’s my favorite picture of Roger glowing like the little angel he is. How precious!

When I was younger, I went through a phase– it later turned into a passion. Contrary to the belief of some of my friends, insect husbandry is not the practice of making an insect your husband, though they do argue that I’ll eventually have to choose between my insects and having one. Please. I’m pretty sure there are fantastic gents out there with their own colonies of cryptocercids… or even pet nepids. Let’s be real.

I have been rearing insects for all of my life actually. As with anything, there have been great failures and spectacular triumphs. Some creatures adapt and thrive in simulated conditions, and others perish at the drop of a hat. Despite its complex and at times variable nature, the practice is an art form with many practical applications for those with more analytical minds, not to mention some sentimental aspects if you find everything to be adorable and lovely (my personal reason).

In college, my insect herd started out on the small side with my Hissing Cockroach, Pancake.

Care:
– He ate what I didn’t. Salad pieces, overripe fruit, stale cereal… dog food.
– Water in a dish.
– Plastic container from pet store.

My room mates at the time really did not appreciate his presence when they found out he was living with us. So naturally, I got him a friend and named her Cinnamon.

They proceeded to have 42 “cinnamon pancakes” and needed to move to a bigger house.

Care:
– More food.
– More water.
– More space!

Around the time my room mates started to accept my roaches, I began to expand my zoo and learn new ways of caring for new insects.

There was Stickley the Australian Walking Stick.

Care:
– Eats fresh oak leaves or pyracantha
– Occasional misting
– Moderate sized container

The illustrious and gorgeous Lady Mantis-

Care:
– Large enough insects which she usually only ate half of. The other half was left to roam freely until she got hungry again.
– Big enough container for her to roam in.

One of the most exciting things that happened last semester:

My latest colony addition started out as 19 “superworms”. Only 5 made it to adulthood, but now I have hundreds of small superworms!

Care:
– Vegetable matter
– Stale Italian bread to live/tunnel in
– They really seem to like tea leaves as larva.

That brings me to my current inventory which is ever growing and which I’m still learning to care for properly:

Not pictured are the countless vials of small flies, spiders, beetles, and other assorted creatures that I bring into my bedroom. And the insects I’m rearing at work- more on them later!

Also, if you have any suggestions as to what I should raise in addition to what I’ve got, I’ll accept any and all ideas (or charitable insect donations of course). I’m currently wishing for Passalids and Rhino Cockroaches!