The Fly Swatter and the Praying Mantis (a Fable)

Okay, yes, yes — the real Aesop’s fable is” The Ant and the Grasshopper.”  I know that.  And my fable, I have to confess, turns on a rather major misconception:   I actually thought it was illegal to kill a praying mantis.

Just a little background for my story.  Many of you know how my wife feels about insects:  She hates them.  She also knows next to nothing about them.  She truly cannot distinguish between a fly and a no-see-um and a beetle and a mosquito.  To her, they’re all “bugs,” and they don’t deserve to exist.  I tell her ants are good and industrious.  I tell her ladybugs feed on all sorts of plant pests.  Her attitude:  I don’t

care.  Just kill ’em.  Kill ’em all.

Last week she freaked out upon spotting a large green “bug” perched on the kitchen backsplash.  And, of course, told me to kill it.  I, however, recognized it as a praying mantis and, as I mentioned above, was under the impression you were never supposed to harm a praying mantis.  Having since done a little research, I now know that praying mantises were thought to have supernatural powers by early civilizations, and a lot of cultures still consider it good luck to see one.  And that since the 1950s, a rumor has circulated that killing a praying mantis carries a fine.  I’m guessing my dad had this last factoid in mind when he told me not to step on a praying mantis when I saw one as a little kid; hence my thought that it was “illegal” to kill them.  (He neglected to tell me that the female mantis eats the male after copulation; maybe he would have, had I been a little bit older.)

So, not wanting to break any laws, instead of going after the mantis to kill it, I opened the door to the backyard and tried to shoo it outside with a fly swatter.  This plan didn’t quite work; the mantis worked itself up to the crease where the wall meets the ceiling, and was more or less unreachable.  Two hours later, I saw it again:  The bright green stick-like body was poised on a bright yellow glove in the kitchen.  But this time, too, it escaped.

Next day, I spotted my mantis friend on the wall in my study, right alongside my desk.  He seemed to enjoy my company.  Like my dog.  I couldn’t just off the poor thing with a fly swatter.  And then it hit me.  Boom!  I went downstairs, got a Ziploc bag from the kitchen,

came back upstairs, and placed the open bag over the mantis.  He, of course, leaped right into it, and I carried my prize out to the back deck.  There, I opened the bag, and my mantis fluttered to the safety of a tree branch.  It was the classic catch-and-release.  I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Later that day, when I looked up “Praying Mantis” online, I happened on a surprising and, to me, amazing fact:  The European praying mantis (Mantis religiosa) was designated the official state insect of Connecticut in 1977!  So my saving Mr. Mantis was more than just humane.  It was, in fact, patriotic.

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