Time

Me time
Family time
Lunch time
Dinner time
Half time
Show time
Workout time
Movie time
Free time
Tee time
Shower time
Study time
Date time
Time for work
Time for bed
Time to shop
Time to repair
Time to stretch
Time to play
Time for breakfast
Time to prepare
Time to go
Time for laundry
Time to waste
Time to pray
Time for church
Time for dishes
Time to meet
Time to weep

Time’s gone

When will we learn:

There’s just not enough time?

Mwezi Hu; The Death House Pt. 2

The possessed armor laid in pieces at our feet. I have to admit our misfit group did a pretty good job defeating it. Well, minus the elf in the blue onesie who started the fight to begin with. With the armor dead, we explore this third floor of this creepy mansion. We each take a different path. Vyke and the elf–who won’t tell us his name–head off to the right. Bree checks the door straight ahead and I go to the door to the far end of the hall on the left.

I find a nursemaid suite which makes this haunted house feel a whole lot sadder. There’s blankets and toys laid on the floor. Bottles and books lining the furniture. A creepy looking mirror to my left. The end of the room houses a balcony window. A rocking chair looks out it and chills shiver my skin. The rocking chair is moving.

I gingerly step into the room to see who occupies the furniture and my lip curls at the sight of a young maiden. From her garb, she’s definitely the nursemaid, but her pale skin, dead eyes, and wispy hair tell me she far from alive.

A floorboard creaks under my steps and the nursemaid turns her head a sickening 360 degrees to look at me. Her eyes sharpen like daggers. “Where are Rose and Thorn?” She asks. The room grows colder when she speaks.

I shake my head. I don’t want to provoke her. She just a spirit unable to pass on. Likely her unfinished business involves Rose and Thorn and I can only assume those are the children from the family painting downstairs. “I don’t know of who you speak.”

She stands up and her body snaps around to reline with her head. Her mouth stretches likes a banshee’s scream. “Liar!”

The nursemaid lunges at me. I draw my morning star and cut it across my arm so my blood magic can ignite the spikes with fire. I swing, but she disappears in a cloud of mist and reappears right behind me. The nursemaid latches onto my shoulders and her sucking breath drains my lifeforce. I hate ghosts.

I can’t shake her off. So, I throw back my head and howl to alert the others. I hear a shout and the next thing I know, Vayne charges into the room with rage in her eyes. Her reptilian hands enlarge to dragon claws and she takes a swipe at the nursemaid. The stupid thing screams right in my ear and when it lunges at Vayne, it knocks me to the ground. I try to get up, but my head is spinning from the energy drain.

When I finally back on my feet, I turn to the nursemaid to find Vyke’s sword running it through. I don’t know when he came into the room, but I’m grateful. The nursemaid shrieks, but her cries fade away as her body dissolves. Bree and the elf enter the room.

“What happened?” Vyke looks at me as he dispells his sword.

“I walked in and she attacked.” I shrug. “I’m guessing her unfinished business keeping her hear was the children.”

“I’m getting more bad vibes about this place.” Vayne takes a breath to calm down. Her claws return to normal size. “It’s like something awful happened here.”

“The only way to find out is to keep going.” I glance around the room. Nothing appears out of place. “Did you guys find anything in the other rooms?”

Bree pipes up. “I saw skeletons hanging from a tree outside the bathroom window.” I frown. It’s just another reason for me to not like this place.

Vyke opens his mouth to say something, but an excited “Ooooh” cuts him off. Blue Onesie is standing by the creepy mirror. He looks back at us with a big, ol’ grin and when he moves the mirror out of the way, a secret door in the wall is revealed. “There’s stairs behind it leading up,” he declares.

I glance at the others. “I guess we go that way.”

The stairs grow narrower as we climb and they lead to a dusty, attic-like space with more doors leading off of it. I pick the one in the middle this time and find a storage space full of bodices and boxes. There’s a trunk at the far end that catches my eye. This is a fancy house and I just about got killed by a ghost. Maybe there’s something valuable in that trunk to make this all worth it? I break the lock off and when I open it up, I about gag at the rotten stench coming from within. Something dead is definitely in here. White bed sheets stained with blood wrap up whatever it is. I find the corpse’s head and scowl. It’s the nursemaid. She’s been stabbed multiple times. There’s no blood anywhere else in the room so her body was put in this trunk and moved here.

“What’d you find?” I turn around at Vyke’s voice. He’s scanning the room.

“It’s the nursemaid.” I close the trunk to spare my nose. “Her body at least. Whoever killed her put her up here.”

“What do you think happened?”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure, but the longer we’re here, the more I worry about the children of this family.”

He nods in agreement and we leave the storage room to meet up with the others, but we spot Vayne backing out of a different room. Her scales are rippling.

“Vayne, what’s wrong?” Vyke asks.

Vayne’s tail won’t stop flicking. “We…we found the children.” As much as I want to feel relieved, the wariness on her face plants graveness in my gut. “Bree’s with them, but…I don’t think they’re alive.”

Vyke and I head into the room. It’s a children’s nursery. Toys are all laid about. The walls are nicely decorated. And, the two children are standing in the middle of the room. An older girl and her younger brother. Rose and Thorn, I presume. The graveness in my gut opens to a pit of dismay. Their skin is pale. Their eyes are blank. And, the smell in the air? They’re definitely not alive.

After what happened with the nursemaid, I grip my weapon.

Vyke grabs my wrist to keep me from drawing my morning star. Anger sparks in his red eyes. “They’re children!” he whispers harshly.

I look him in the eye. “They’re not alive.”

“Well, they’re not attacking us either.”

“They said they were told to hide in here.” Bree eyes me suspiciously. “Their parents, Elizabeth and Gustov, ushered them in here and locked them in. They don’t know where their parents went, but they were told to wait for them.”

That must be their unfinished business then. I frown sadly at the children. They’re waiting for parents that are likely as dead as they are.

“We need to find their bodies.” Vyke speaks softly to Bree and I. He points at me. “I’m going to go take another look around. You don’t harm these kids.”

“I’ll be watching her.” Bree nods curtly.

I roll my eyes and raise my hands to show them weapon free. I don’t like what’s going on in this house anymore than they do, but someone has to err on the side of caution. Vyke leaves the room and I look back at the kids. Thorn is holding a teddy bear. “Is that your favorite toy?” I ask him.

He nods.

I step forward and crouch beside him–Bree eyeing me the entire time. “May I see your toy?” I ask.

He nods and hands the teddy bear over. It’s a cute little teddy bear with a red bow. It reminded me of the stuffed wolf I played with as a child. I hold the bear up to my nose and breath in the scents upon it. Since Thorn was playing with it, there wasn’t much dust on it, and I could detect the scent of his living person. I lower the teddy bear and take a few whiffs around the room to follow that scent. His body definitely isn’t in here.

I look back at Thorn and hold up the teddy bear. “May I take this for a moment? I’ll be right back with it.” Thorn nods. I turn to leave the room and catch sight of the look on Bree’s face. She’s staring at me like I’ve gone mad. It’s a look I’m all too familiar with. I ignore her and follow the scent trail.

Blue Onesie is coming from the opposite end of the attic space. There must be nothing down there because he’s playing with a doll as he approaches. As much as he reeks, I dip my head into the teddy bear again to focus on Thorn’s scent. His trail leads back into the storage room. Vyke and Vayne are already in there picking apart the crates and other things to find the kid’s bodies. Bree and Blue Onesie follow after me and they all fill Blue Onesie in on what he missed with the children. Bree’s still giving me the side-eye.

There’s no doubt in my mind. The scent trail of Thorn leads right to a wall. Wooden planks block my path, but scent a draft behind them. I run my hand along the wall, along every edge of the wood, and I’m thinking I might just have to break through it when my finger clicks a latch. The wall slides open.

“Hey, guys.” I holler back to the others. The secret passage descended down a dark spiral staircase. “We’ll find the kids’ bodies this way.”

They come over. Vyke gives me a puzzled look. “How did you…” I hold up the teddy bear, but that only cause them to give me more confused looks.

I sigh. “I’m going to give this back to Thorn. Wait for me.”

“I’ll come with you.” Blue Onesie holds up his doll. “I can give this to Rose.”

We head back into the children’s room, but Rose and Thorn are gone.

A Bench at Ren Fest

Have you ever took a moment at a Renaissance fair to find a bench with a view?
Have you ever just paused and gazed at the people all around you?
Sitting at a bench at the Ren Fest, watching the passers go by
Its there that you can just let your imagination fly.
Children run pass with toy swords in hand, hacking and swinging at each other
Maybe someday, they’ll be knights or soldiers–to the great distain of their mothers
Some rugged men, a band of mercenaries, call out as they raise their ales
Perhaps they’re celebrating the victory of a monster they just impaled
Then the village madman hobbles down the street, hackling and chackling at all he meets.
A dark hooded figure stands in a corner, staring out at all he sees
Perhaps a villain? Perhaps a spirit? Someone the main character just sees?
A cheer fills the air from a joust up the square. You hear the maidens swoon
The knights decked in armor defend their prides–a deathmatch is set at noon
There’s so much to see from the bench right there
There’s fairies, and fauns, and music in the air
Knights and adventures. Wizards and pirates. It’s a story all its own
Just take a moment, a single moment, to see it before you go home
As you leave, I hope you smile and have learned something new
All because you sat at a Ren Fest on a bench with a view

Hippo Display

Taking care of the my zoo’s hippos the other day, I had a pretty cool experience with one of our girls. We have two hippos. One is considered geriatric while the other is considered a teenager. Everyday we do a “Hippo Chat” where I, the keeper, go out to the exhibit and chat about our hippos to our guests. I really enjoy doing it. It’s very rewarding when the hippos and people engage. It’s fun seeing people’s faces light up when I tell them an interesting fact and when the hippos participate, everyone has a good time.

The other day, at my chat, our teenager was the only one to come out of the water for treats. It took her a while. Usually the girls will circle in the pool before one of them decides to come out. I could tell our teenager wanted treats, but our older hippo kept blocking her path. Eventually, our teenager gives a little display: opening her mouth and doing a partial porpoise before she raced out of the water. I was able to call her over and she enjoyed some of my bananas while guests gawked at her. I like to show off our hippos and how good they are, so I asked our teenager for some training cues. She did a fantastic job and after a couple more banana slices, she decided she was done. She didn’t go back into the water which made me hopeful that she’d come back.

I’ve noticed with our teenager that she’s gotten into the habit of searching for browse after participating in the hippo chat. She’ll wander around the edges of the exhibit to see if she can spot any branches or leaves she can reach through the exhibit bars. She didn’t find any, but she did find a nice sunny patch to stand in on that cool, fall day.

By now, the guests were coming and going. With one hippo snoozing in the water and other enjoying a sunny patch on the far side of the exhibit, I wasn’t surprised people weren’t lingering to watch them. Those that left, well, they certainly missed out.

Our teenage hippo decides to come back closer to the front of the exhibit. She has to climb a little, rocky hill then she’ll be on a big pit of sand. She reached the sand and charged.

Our rowdy girl tossed her head and charged me at the bars of the exhibit with mouth open wide. I didn’t move. The bars are six inches thick and she knows how hard they are. She stopped short, tossed her head again, then circled the sand pit in a trotting display. She was acting tough. The head bobbing, the tail flicking, and the strutting about were clear signs she’s was letting everyone know she’s a queen bee.

I’m not used to seeing her in this feisty mood. She’s always been so sweet, but she is a teenager coming into maturity. When animals come into maturity, they have to figure out how to fit into their society. Will they rise the ranks closer to alpha or hang out on the bottom of the totem pole? Our teenager lives with one other hippo. A hippo that is much older than her. She may not be able to show our other hippo who’s boss–during her little display, the other hippo didn’t care. She napped the whole time–but there are others our teenager sees every single day that thinks she can boss around.

Us zookeepers.

From my experience, as long as zookeepers don’t react to the animal displaying at them, then the animal will get bored and eventually stop. Animal behavior is fascinating to me and our feisty teenager’s display got me curious on deeper behaviors of hippos. Unfortunately, I’m not finding a lot of scientific articles about hippos that I have access to (a lot of institutional sites require a login). However, I did find a study done in 2009 about social structure of captive female hippos. A scientist studied the hippos at Disney’s Animal Kingdom for several months. Hippos are known to be social animals, but she wanted to do deeper than that. She discovered that hippos prefer familiarity when interacting with other hippos. They’ll hang out with kin over other hippos and if they don’t have kin, then they’ll hang out with the hippo they’ve known the longest over other hippos. It makes sense. The longer you know someone the easier it is to anticipate what they’ll do or allow.

Our hippos at the zoo have only been together since 2019. They met when our teenager was still considered a child and our older hippo took on a maternal role for her. I’m hoping the bond between them back then will be strong enough to survive the teenage years. Although, I don’t blame our older girl for losing her patience when the teenager constantly pokes her in the face when she’s trying to nap.

All in all, our hippos are doing great. Our teenager is still in the early years of maturity, so she’s got a while before she figures herself out. In the meantime, she’ll probably keep testing us zookeepers. I certainly hope I’m around to watch our girl grow.

To the Christian Dreamer

Can I be real? Just for a second? I’ve been quite a bit down lately. It’s another one of my low points where I start to feel like everything is impossible and I can’t do anything right. Like anything. I mean, I feel like I’m not measuring up at my job. I wrecked my car and will be out a vehicle for probably over a month. I’ve been too upset with myself to want to engage in conversation with anyone–including family. And, when it comes to my novel, I’m scared out of my mind.

I have a journal where I write all my down days in. Whenever I feel like this, I pull out that journal and write down everything that’s bothering me. I lay it all out and then let the pen take over. Most of the time, I can reason with myself to make me feel better or I’ll write a prayer. Most of time, it makes me feel better, but now…I just feel stuck.

I couldn’t get myself to write anything encouraging in my journal this time because I’ll feel like a hypocrite if I do. I know the pattern. I screw up. Write about it. Feel better. Screw up again. Write about it. Repeat. So, I stopped writing. Instead, I went back to my previous journal entries. The last one was in May when I talked about how excited I was at the prospect of getting a permanent job at my zoo. The one before that was in April. Back then, I was offered two different jobs, and I was conflicted about which one to pick (I’m sure you remember all the webposts I wrote about it). At the end of that journal entry, I wrote something that’s caught my attention now. I’d like to share it, but please. Don’t judge. This is a section of my diary, after all:

“So, I’m as lost as ever on what to do in life. Why is it that I have to want “impossible” or “unlikely” dreams? Why couldn’t I have a passion for something easier and more profitable?
God willing, something will give.”

It felt like a kick in the head when I read that. By now, you know my dream. I want to be a published author. I want to write a series of books that everyone will love. I also want to help the exotic species on the planet. Work side by side with large felines and help save them from extinction. These two dreams feel very impossible/unlikely to me. Why? Because I know I’m out of my league. I don’t read enough books to know the market, or who’s who in the publishing world, or what people are into these days. I’m not the expert at querying and I’m terrible at talking up my book. So, who’s to say I have a shot? Even if it did get published. There’s no guarantee that it’ll be successful. And, saving animals from extinction? That’s a tall order in a world where people don’t take care of their planet. What can I do? I’m a just a part-time zookeeper with only a year’s experience.

Doesn’t matter how you look at it. I got the odds stacked against me when it comes to my dreams. I’m scared I’ll never achieve them and that’s what led to me saying they’re impossible/unlikely. Yet, my journal entry still kicked me in the head. Why? Because it made me think of this webpost. This one. “To the Christian Dreamer.” The one you’re reading right now. I started writing this webpost a couple weeks ago after something I heard on the radio, but it never felt quite right to me, so it got imprisoned as an uncompleted draft. This is probably my fifth attempt at finishing it.

What I heard on the radio a couple weeks ago was really encouraging. It almost felt like a breath of relief the more I thought about it. Here’s what it was:

If you’re dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.

Here’s where the Christian part of this post comes in. The radio station I heard that on was Klove, a Christian radio station. When I went back to my April journal entry, and read how I called my dreams “impossible” or “unlikely,” it reminded me of this quote. My dreams terrify me, because I’m not sure I’m qualified to complete them. There is someone who is qualified, though, and He’s big enough to make anything happen.

I remember a song I used to hear on the radio all the time. Every time I heard it, it made me cry. I haven’t heard it a while, though. Almost forgot about it until I saw that journal entry. It’s called “Unstoppable God” by Sanctus Real. The chorus goes like this:

“Nothing can stop an unstoppable God
He’s not afraid of impossible odds.
This is the promise that I’m standing on.
Nothing can stop an unstoppable God.”

So, I’ve got a big God who gave me a passion for big dreams, and He’s not afraid of how the odds of me becoming an author are stacked against me. He’s got a plan (Jeremiah 29:11) and I gotta believe it. Even when I don’t feel like it. Dreams are meant to be big because we’re not meant to do them alone. We can’t do them alone. God wants to be a part of them to help us soar high on wings like eagles. We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Philippians 4:13). There’s no need to be afraid or discouraged, because we’re not alone in this (Isaiah 41:10). Even when we feel like we’re too weak or don’t measure up to the task, God’s there to help (2 Corinthians 12:9).

If God’s in my corner, then there’s no reason why I can’t become a published author or make a difference in the lives of large felines. Same goes for your dream. If it’s so big that it scares you, remember: nothing is impossible to the God of creation. It’s your dream. I dare you to pursue it with Him.

Hey, look at that. I feel better.

October

Can you believe it’s already October? The leaves are going to start changing colors. There’s a chilly nip in the air. Mornings are growing darker. Honestly, I’m not ready for cold. I don’t like cold. I wish it was still summer, but you know what? I am excited about October.

October is Halloween. You start to see the decorations come out. They line the shelves at stores, and neighborhood lawns. My family loves Halloween. We do a haunted garage every year. Last year, our theme was Witch Doctors on the Bayou, you can read all about it in my webpost here: Going Down the Bayou. This year’s theme…I’m not allowed to divulge yet, but it’s going to be GREAT. Hopefully we get a lot of trick-or-treaters who will brave the garage. If not, we’ll at least have a nice night around a firepit.

Halloween isn’t the only fun thing in October. October also means Ren Fests and OctoberFests, Apple Fests and Fall Fests. It’s a great time for people to come together at pumpkin patches and corn mazes, cider mills and haunted houses/barns/hayrides/etc. Then, you’ve got all those amusement parks that have fun haunts throughout the month. October also means we celebrate my puppy dog’s birthday.

So, here’s to a great October full of fun activities. Whether you just enjoy one of the fests that I mentioned or you make it your goal to go to all them. May you find the rounded pumpkin at the patch and not get too lost at the corn maze. Lastly, may you enjoy a good scare, a great Día de los Muertos, Happy Halloween, and special time with family.

Happy October everyone!

To the Roleplayers

Here’s the roleplayers on the writing forums.
The ones who create a story with one character interacting with the characters of others.
Here’s to the ones learning how to write.
And how to share the spotlight.
Here’s to the ones who build an awesome plot
And a world where their characters stumble a lot
It’ll never see the light of day
Never have another reader, come what may
A story so precious. A history so long
And even written in a couple of songs
Thanks to the roleplayers, fanfiction or original
For creating plots to include every individual
Thank you for the empathy, the lessons of common sense
And broadening our knowledge without costing a cent
I’ve been in roleplays for a decade now
And surely found that they allow
Chances to grow, to use all the variables
And crafts the most imaginable fables
Thank you to those who’ve written with me
And helped define my history
May the stories continue on page or in heart
And thank you roleplayers for building this art

Believe in the Magic

The motion of a pen
The stroke of a brush
There’s magic in making something from dust

Some shading here
A bit of detail there
Can you feel how it tingles the air?

Words of a story
Lines of paint
An artist’s creation
Something published or framed

Do the best you can
To put your mind on the page
A drawing of characters
A scene full of rage

There’s magic in it all
When time is taken
Imagination is yours to awaken

Beloved and known
Your own creation
Someday you’ll hold it all your own
Whether picture or dictation

Published or framed
For the world to see
Believe in the magic
And it’ll be

A little faith and trust go a long way
Enjoy your creation
Seize the day!

With the motion of a pen
Or the stroke of a brush
There’s magic in making something from dust

Character Dilemma

“I don’t see why we have to do this.”

I’m straightening my notes as the lieutenant sits across from me. He folds his arms and crosses his legs and pointedly stares at the wall. I smile at him. As annoying as he can be, I love the sharp features I gave him. I’ve been putting off this interview with him for far too long.

“I’m not the main character.” My lieutenant tosses his head back to get his blonde hair out of his eyes. “I shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Every named character has to do this.” I shrug. “If you were an unnamed barkeep, then we wouldn’t be here, but I gave you a name, lieutenant, and a purpose in my novel.”

“A purpose.” He scoffs. “Not a very good one.”

“To start, perhaps, but you don’t know the growth that’s involved. Trust me, my friend, it’ll be–“

“I’m not your friend!”

His snap doesn’t surprise me. I raise my hands. “Alright, not your friend. How about we just get through this interview so you can go?”

He scoffs. “You said every named character has to go through this, but you haven’t done this with the other lieutenants yet.”

I huff sheepishly. “You’re right, but their time is coming. Right now, you’re the more important one out of the three of you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Peachy.”

I try to hide my amusement. I know how he feels. I hate doing interviews and admitting personal parts of myself. I felt exactly what he’s feeling now when I had to do a meeting for work. The only difference is I was able to bite down my hostile and sarcastic comments. He can’t. I never considered this lieutenant much. We didn’t like each other when the novel started, but we have more in common than I thought. “We need to figure out how to do your scenes in the sequel. Those all depend on how you feel about what you did in the first novel.”

“Don’t you already know how I feel?” He gives me a hardened look. “Being the author and all?”

I smile and I brush my hair behind my ear. “If I knew what to put on the page, we wouldn’t be doing this.” When he rolls his eyes, I clear my throat. “Alright. You did a lot of really good things in the first novel, but there’s one thing that’s weighing on your mind, right?”

“Sure.”

“You won’t talk about it to anyone, will you?”

“It’s no one’s business but my own.”

I nod. “I can relate to that. But, lieutenant, it is effecting your work, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say so.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie, sir.” I check my notes. “You’ve been stricter with your men. More argumentative with the other lieutenants. You’ve been a little aggressive with your equipment. And, you don’t talk to your superior as much anymore.” When I look at him, he’s refusing to look back at me. His leg is bouncing. “All of this tells me your faith is shaken.”

He shakes his head and offsets his jaw. I knew if he had the choice, he’d walk out. In his mind, it’s better to walk out and be rude than to admit weakness to superiors. Maybe if he can break down those defenses, I can to? “Lieutenant?”

“I followed my orders, alright? What more do you want from me?”

I lean forward. “I want to know what you’ll admit to others. I want to know what questions and doubts you’ll put in people’s minds because you’re too scared to deal with your conflict yourself. What actions will you portray to the men who follow you? What’s going to tell the readers you lost faith without using the actual words themselves?”

He stills and finally looks me in the eye. Anger burns in his gaze. “You really want to know?” When I nod, he leans forward. “I’ll remind everyone what’s right, and who’s wrong.”

Dwarf Crocodiles

If you don’t know by now, I work at a zoo. This month, my team gets the exciting opportunity to welcome a new animal to our care: a West African Dwarf Crocodile. My manager asked me to create a fact sheet about dwarf crocodiles, so I thought I’d share my findings with you!

There is one problem, though. There’s not a lot of research done on Dwarf Crocodiles. They are actually one of the least studied species in the world. Sure, I could see what other zoos say about Dwarf Crocodiles, but I was warned not all zoos check their facts. Dwarf Crocodiles are the smallest crocodile species. They only get from 4.9 to 5 feet long fully grown. They are threatened/vulnerable conservation wise. You see, Dwarf Crocodiles live in West Africa in swamp and rainforest environments. They’ve even been known to live in pools on the savannah. And, because they’re so small, they’re a little easier to trap and transport than other crocodiles. Hunters often use dwarf crocodiles as bushmeat and they are facing habitat loss with the expansion of human populations in Africa.

I was able to find some studies on dwarf crocodiles that focus on their nesting behaviors. Dwarf crocodiles can lay 7-10 eggs per clutch. Females will make nests made out of decomposing vegetation to help keep the eggs warm as they incubate. It’s takes about 89-110 days for the eggs to hatch. They are vulnerable in the nest as well. Destruction to the nest by natural causes can harm the eggs or they can be preyed upon by predators like the West African Nile Monitor. The mother will guard the nest to the best of her abilities and she listens for the cries of her hatchlings after they hatch. Dwarf crocodiles are pretty independent at birth, but their mother will carry them to the rivers to get them going. These crocodiles won’t reach maturity until 5-6 years old.

As for their diet, dwarf crocodiles mostly eat invertebrates. As the smallest species of crocodiles, they can’t go after large antelope or zebra. So, dwarf crocodiles will go after crustaceans like crabs, fish, small mammals like rodents, lizards, snakes, frogs, and even bugs. They’re silent hunters and a nocturnal species. Like all crocodilians, their eyes and nose are on the top of their head to help them peek out of the water just enough to spot their prey without being noticed.

How long they live isn’t known. Sure, we could start a study of how long dwarf crocodiles live in captivity. We do know the age of the new dwarf crocodile at my zoo, but animals in captivity naturally live longer since they don’t have to worry about predators, hunting, and they get free health care when they’re sick or injured. We wouldn’t get an accurate estimate from the wild.

Hopefully, the dwarf crocodile will get further researched and protected from trappers. If I find out more information, I’ll happily share it with you! A great way to learn and push for knowledge about different species is to support your local zoo. A lot of the proceeds go toward conservation and you can even donate to support conservation as well. Zookeepers love the animals they take care of and if they’re presented with a question they don’t know the answer to, they’ll research it. If they can’t find the answer, they go to someone they think will, and if that person can’t find the answer, well, that’s how studies can start. So, keep being curious about the different animal species out there. Because every one deserves to be understood and protected.