In my haste, and utter excitement to rehouse my H. Pulchripes I completely forgot about the dinner for my two new babies. After rehousing them I realized I had left the crickets in the other room with my cat. I quickly rushed to the scene to find my cat completely enamored by her new toy. There, on the floor, I found limp remains of what was a small balloon of 5 insects. Clearly, barely microscopic hints of a milky white nature caressing the abdomen of this tiny snack. One, wasn't moving. Chastising the sobature I reached for my guilt, and took from the traitors claws a victim clearly intended for someone else. I broke for the demons home, I prayed to still feed. Reaching inside the bag, I fumbled to find life. Clearing it from its trap I clutched. On the door. Seeing just a hint of the dangers inside, I opened it with caution, placing the cricket inside. It stopped moving. Let myself hope for for that circle of life. That nourishment that only death provides. I watched closely, through the threshold, to see a slow world frozen in time. Maybe with luck it can happen. I'll knock in the morning... Slowly I shut door. Then there it was. As silently as it had come it had gone. The cricket, making its final push to survive had indeed sealed its own fate. It's final kick attracted some attention. It was slow at first. Like a tidal wave of death. Like water in every motion it engorged its prey. Carrying it into the abyss. As life sometimes does.