Temptation

Weevils excel at playing dead. I barely touch one, and it immediately curls up and freezes. Then I can pick it up, move it about, turn it over, and it never twitches, not even the tip of an antenna. Unless ...

I saw this very small weevil walking along the edge of my keyboard, and brushed her* off onto a sheet of paper. Now she's "dead".**

After about 12 minutes with not a quiver from little Weev', I put a fragment of moistened prune in front of her. Her self-control wavered, and she lifted those antennae, then remembered, and froze in that position for another 10 minutes.

Total: 23 minutes of playing possum, and now, dinner!

And I compliment the dog next door when she sits for 30 seconds, waiting for her treat.

*Many species of the Broad-nosed weevil sub-family are parthenogenetic on this continent; in other words, all the individuals are female.

**She's covered in spider web. Looks like she fooled the spider, too.

Sufficient unto the day ...

... is the weevil thereof.*

Wally Weevil

The weevil philosophy of life includes the maxim, "If you don't move a hair, they'll think you're not there." I had to drape myself over the compost bin, leaning at a precarious angle against the wall, making all kinds of sudden moves as the rotating compost bin cranked around, to get this photo. Wally Weevil, true to his principles, never even twitched an antenna.

As far as I know, he's there still.

*Yes, I know; that's not how it goes.