*Crickets Chirp*

As you already know, I am an Ocean Activist. Thus the title of the blog. Once you fall into the Ocean you can never get out...in more ways than one I suppose.
So, once you've experienced the wild you can't stand captivity. I mean, it makes you ill to go to seaworld, er, slaveworld rather. Some people would call me a crazy radical...okay MOST people would, but I don't really care. I know I'm doing whats right. What God wants me to do.

Hahaa, right now your probably thinking I'm getting to something big, so, let me say right off the bat not to get your hopes too high...especially if you don't like bugs...anyway.

So My Mom, Mel and I find ourselves in PETCO a few days ago. I hardly ever go in PETCO. Well up until we got London (Bridge Dog, lol!) That is. See, when you had a cat that is content playing with a hair-tie or the little seal peal thingies that come off of jugs of bottled water, you don't really go all out on 10 dollar gourmet pet toys that he will turn his precious nose up at. I learned this the hard way...on his 1st Birthday in our house. I played with the multitude of toys more than he did! *Foreheadsmack*

I'm getting off topic here. Back to what I was saying...

We're in PETCO shopping for London, as new proud puppy owners and stuff, but do I act like a normal kid shopping for a new pet? Course' nawt!

I have to go scope the place out looking for some shape or form of animal abuse of the littlest kind!

So as you know, PETCO is a pet store. Pet store=Animals for sale=Little cages with animals in them.
They had your normal stuff, hamsters, mice, rats, birds, fish, turtles, lizards, snakes, ect. And I turned my nose up at all of them in disdain of cooperate greed. Then I hear the tell-tale *ChiiiirrrrP!!* (In that pronunciation, mind you.) Crickets. For. Sale. Not as Pets. As food. For reptiles. Sad. So I picked up a small plastic carton of the singers and one looked me right in the eyes. Yep.
The Cricket stare was epic.
I (Literally) begged Mom to let me buy the crickets with my own money. I was soooo ridiculous that day. I mean, don't get me wrong. I wanted to get the lil guys out of there. I wanted them to feel the sweet breeze on their beady faces and all but, here I was, wandering around a pet store like a lunatic while I SHOULD have been helping my Mom figure out what food, brushes, bones, ect. To buy for MY dog. God forgive my utter ignorance. I haven't the slightest idea of how my Mom keeps her Patience while living with a being like myself. Yeah, I know she's awesome *passes out*

So I didn't get the crickets.

A week or so passes. My sis needs to go to the Ortho Office in the same town as PETCO and coincidentally we need to buy a muzzle for London to help him "Get along" with the resident feline beings.

My Dad and I browse the store. (Yuuup, Daddy came this time! ♥) I introduce him to the turtles, and then...
We reach the cricket isle.

This time, however, the crickets are hanging in bags. The price sign reads 13 cents and I shriek with delight and beg Daddy to lemme get em.
My adorable, awesome Father gives me a look of frightened confusion at my bazaar behaviour than says the classic: "Ask your Mother."

I ask my Mother...she says: "Ask your Father." and since I'd already asked my Father I gave an unearthly scream of sheer joy and gave Daddy's arm a squeeze and a "Thank youuuuu!" as I dash through the store like a rabid animal, making a bee-line for the cricket store. If there was anyone around...well lets just say, it would be beyond hysterical to see what they thought. Bahahaahahaaaa!

I grab a bag of crickets and than another...*Mom emerges from...I forgot the isle she was in, because I was too caught up in my own little selfish world to care...anyway, Mom says: "Only One" Dad Nods in exasperated agreement.

I then turned to my sister, who had simultaneously been approaching me, and held a bag of small (REALLY SMALL!) Crickets out to her.

"Here you can get one too!"
*Cringe* "I don't want one!"
"Why? You're denying these poor beings life!"
And...I will not bore you, dear reader, with the rest of the bickering of my Sister and I.

We make it to the check out. My Dad and I standing in front while Mommy and Mel get caught up with last minute "BUYS MEEEEE!!!" 's.
After the cashier rings up all our stuff she says to my Dad...something along the lines of: "Do you want to give me more of your money to help homeless pets that are freezing their lil paws off?" Dad says: "Of course!" Then he glances at the cricket bag which I am staring intently at, and then he mutters, rather says, "Help homeless crickets" I giggle inwardly and smile outwardly and mentally roll on the floor in uncontrollable laughter. The cashier's solitary chuckle rings through the air like a flying squirrel. She tosses the bills into the money drawer and mutters in teenage drawl "Yeah, those things are everrrywherrreee" I glare inwardly and my Dad and I exchange amused glances.
Mom and Mel arrive and we pay for the extra stuff they'd decided to buy.

As soon as my small foot hits the pavement and my lungs eagerly suck in air that smells less like hamsters and in short, we leave the store, I collapse upon my wonderful Mother with grateful thanks and hugs and kisses.

In the car I freak out in my happiness.

That night, Mel and I make the cricket a...opps...I forgot, when we'd gotten into the car and drove to the mall, I learned after the receipt was checked that the crickets had been 13 cents per cricket! So I spent 3.99 pr 2.99 or some such expense that make a being such as myself who rarely spends money (Of my own, that is) eyes bug out. Nearly anyway.

I waved my enraged fist in the air and screamed "Figures! PETCO, not only supports animal cruelty but they also use false advertising!" My lovely Mommy chuckled gently.

So as I was telling you before, Mel and I created a habitat for the crickets that night and were, a little, despite our love for them, freaked out, if you will, by the multitude of hopping brown bugs.




So, I temporally housed them in the old triop tank, course, it was H2O free and I scattered the bottom with peat moss. I made them dinner, (a mix of celery leaves, spinach and cut up bits of fresh picked ourselves this fall apple.) They ate gratefully and it was awesome to actually be able to watch them eat with those little tiny mouths!

I wanted to release them yesterday, but the temperature wasn't that desirable and we had to get to skating lessons.

So today, upon bringing Londy home from the groomers, I set them free. In my garden, of which my amazing parents bestowed upon me. How I love them.

I brought them to the first bed by the parsley and then...gave them back their birthright. FREEDOM.




After being assure by Daddy that dumping the rest of the bugs out onto the ground would not kill them since...well...they live naturally in dirt, I did so. Out they all hopped with unutterable glee and happy shock.

I wished them all the best in life and poured the last of their food mixture which I'd made before we left onto the ground.
I picked up a 2 and then watched them jump out of my palm.


It was amazing. I'd watched these guys clawing at the container for the past 2 days desperate for freedom and now..because of what I decided to do...they're free.

They're Free.





The Cricket Stare, was, indeed, EPIC.

This post is dedicated to Mommy and Daddy (Who allowed me to save them), Mel (Who helped me so ever much and made it so much fun!) and Kaitie (Who put up with my cricket rants. Rofl!)

Thank you all for reading! Free a Cricket!
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