When I was seven or eight, one of my “jobs” was hunting snails in our yard for a nickle a pop. I’d wander through the plants for what seemed like hours, each tiny victim making a satisfying plunk as it went into my empty milk jug. I don’t remember any guilt at the time, but I feel it now every time I see a standard North American garden snail. Those poor snails! Packed into milk jugs, on their way to oblivion.
Luckily for me, the snails here in Singapore are a different thing altogether. They are massive. The big ones are three or four inches from eye stalk to shell tip, and they continue to be a visual surprise, even after almost three years of living here. There’s something really fun about seeing the conical shell shape I associate with marine snails on a terrestrial creature.
Thanks for your hard work, big guys. I promise not to drop you into a milk jug.