But I prefer mine roaming wild, and free to choose her favourite shubs. I once painted a snail’s shell with a dab of scarlet nailpolish so I could recognise my snail every time I saw her in the garden. I felt like a treasure hunter each time I looked for her. I got to know her picky tastes and the local social gatherings… she wasn’t a one man kinda girl. I discovered too that as adorable as it is to poke a snails little probes and watch them pull in – it hurts and isnt a nice thing to do to a friend. Fingers are salty. If I pressed my ear close to a leaf she was chewing, I could hear her tiny little crunching sounds.

We had such good times together… and we never even knew each others names.