The Mouse and The Pitcher Plant

Harvey extricates himself from his brothers and sisters and creeps out of the burrow before his parents can wake up. He shouldn’t wander the dangerous rainforest alone, but after all the togetherness of the burrow, he needs fresh air. While walking around, he realizes he is hungry, so sits down to enjoy some grains he brought with him. After a full afternoon wandering around and admiring flora and fauna, he lays down to take a nap, hiding under some leaves.

The rushing wind wakes Harvey up. Stunned to find himself soaring over the rainforest, clutched in the talons of a harpy eagle. Stretching as far as he can, he finally gets his sharp teeth to the point he can bite the talon holding him and takes the biggest bite he has ever taken, and–nothing happens. The harpy eagle doesn’t even notice. Adjusting as much as he can, he gnaws on the talon, hoping he can make enough headway for the harpy eagle to drop him.

Abruptly, the gnawing bite worked, and he plummeted towards the ground. The dizzying speeds kept him off-kilter as he tried to balance his body and guide his fall toward a softer, safer landing. The only thing he can see is the vibrant green, orange and red foliage of the treetops–hopefully he will miss any large branches or hungry animals as comes down. Breaking the emergent layer of foliage, he spots a nice cushy looking plant with large soft leaves to land on. The last thing he remembers is missing the extremely large, comfortable-looking leaves.

Odae was enjoying a fine snack of flying beetles when a mouse fell from the sky. Here she was, minding her own business and enjoying the tasty juices running down into her body while she searched the area for more beetles, and suddenly a mouse scattered all the beetles and bugs that she wanted to eat. It was really quite shocking; it made her lid close and everything. Releasing a scoffing sigh, she forces her lid back open to look for any lingering bugs. She thought she found a quiet corner of the rainforest where she could enjoy her snacks in peace, and then it started raining mice instead of water. Seriously, what is the Amazon coming to these days?

She forces her lid open to let the mouse know her exact thoughts on having her snack interrupted when she spies an emerald tree boa slithering towards the slumbering mouse. She doesn’t like mice, and certainly not this mouse in particular. He interrupted her snack and scared away all her bugs. But. She really doesn’t like snakes. She resolves to do whatever it takes to thwart this snake in its search for a snack. As a pitcher plant, she realizes the options are limited; she is clever and resourceful and determined to frustrate the snake.

First, Odae tries to move the mouse by reaching out her leaves as close to him as she can get–she can’t quite touch him. She tries to reach further, but she can feel her roots give way. She must ease back and find an alternative way. 

The snake is reaching the edge of the tree line. Its tongue tasting the breeze as it emerges into the clearing.

She then tries to beat her leaves on the ground hard enough to create movement in the ground so the mouse will roll towards her. She beats her leaves over and over until they bruise. Nothing. 

The snake is only a foot away, coiling to attack. 

Distastefully, she realizes her only choice: flip him into her body and quickly put him down again before her enzymes start digesting him. She does NOT want to eat a mouse. She trepidatiously leans over as far as her roots allow. As the snake creeps closer, she slides him past her neck and into her body, not liking the thud as he falls in. Odae feels him hit the bottom of her body and springs back into place, just as the snake strikes to seize the mouse. Once back in her upright posture, she watches the snake slither back into the trees, complaining about missing its lunch.

Without further hesitation, she turns and spits the mouse out of her body as quickly as she can. He is already covered in her digestive enzymes, and she fears the mouse taste will linger for days. Disgusting. He lays in a soggy unconscious lump of nauseating tan matted fur. Of all the nerve. 

“Lazy, worthless mouse. He could at least wake up and defend himself against the next predator, or he could go somewhere else to sleep and leave me in peace,” she thinks with disdain. She hums to herself and throws seed pods at him–maybe the noise or getting pelted with hard balls will wake him up?

Harvey slowly realizes that something hard keeps hitting him painfully in the back. Again and again. He rolls over and sees a pitcher plant is throwing seed pods at him. Ouch. Everything hurts. Being carried by an eagle, falling into the Amazon and having a pitcher plant try to eat you really leaves a mouse sore. This adventuring leaves a lot to be desired. He thinks about his family waiting for him back at the burrow. All of his brothers and sisters. His parents. His friends. He is never lonely, but also never alone. Does he want to go back to that life? Or is the need for adventure stronger than the desire to eat well and be comfortable? Before today, it would have been a straightforward decision–adventure awaits! But now, he’s not as sure. The comfort of home and family pulls him home. Should he follow its lead, or continue the adventurous lifestyle he has just found?

Slowly, he looks around and realizes that he doesn’t know how to get home; he is lost and alone in the Amazon. Looking for clues to his location, he notices the sun is setting. Harvey lives on the northeastern-most edge of the jungle-he needs to head northeast. He decided. Tonight, he will eat dinner and rest. When he wakes up in the morning, the ultimate adventure begins.