Poor Beasty!

I was shopping at a local grocery store when out of the corner of my eye I spied a friendly little plant I dubbed, "Beasty." From the moment I saw the bountiful Venus flytrap, I knew we were meant to be. Despite the plant being genderless and therefore "perfect" (pertaining to both genders as Venus flytraps have both male (stamens) and female parts (carpels)), I generally refer to my dear plant as "him."

I do this for the irony that Venus is the Roman goddess of love, beauty, desire, and fertility. The name Venus flytrap is indeed a much improved version of the euphemism, "tipitiwitchet" or "Tippity Twitchet" that early naturalists and botanists such as John Bartram, William Bartram, Peter Collinson, William Darlington, Arthur Dobbs, Daniel Solande, and John Ellis originally dubbed it. These original "nicknames" were nothing more than slang terms for what they saw as similarities to female genitalia in the plant. Oh, yes! Nothing should surprise us about the "scientific" classifications human males made in those days. It was the 18th century after all: women weren't allowed opinions, thoughts, or proper stimulation. We "knew nothing of all those things", but I digress. My point is, in opposition, I have granted my "Beasty" the pronoun, "he/him/his" because if men in the 1700s could bestow a genderless plant an inappropriate euphemism and list it as a scientific discovery, I can affectionately call my own pet plant whatever I want. Take that toxic masculinity!

Anyway, so I brought Beasty home to love and care for him. I thought it would be a simple task. I have had excellent luck with orchids, peace lilies, Bromeliads, aloe veras, fruit trees, and cactuses in the past. I was even part of a plant program for a while. In fact, I consider myself quite the affectionate plant-parent. I'm not sure if most plant lovers talk to their plants, but this one sure does. I may "coo and coddle it" much like a babe hoping that it grows just as warmly and lovingly with a few kind words. Atmosphere is important, right? (Yes, I know, what is wrong with me is no small thing.) I thought these reasons would most assuredly qualify me to care for a Venus flytrap. As I would find out though, Beasty was truly another beast entirely.

I tried to provide my dear fellow the proper amount of water. The experts say "keep the soil moist, but not soaked." I sarcastically murmured, "Very specific instructions..." with an eyeroll when I read those instructions, but I tried to follow them as I'd done for other plants in the past. Also, distilled or rain water is recommended for such a plant as these; not tap or bottled. When I picked him up, he was already in need of a drink. Without looking too much into it, I gave him warm tap water using a clean dropper. No wonder my little buddy started to wither.

He had a few "dead heads" when I bought him already, but he had so many more healthy ones I didn't worry about that amount of damage. I briefly looked into it, and decided to clip them off per the instructions. Unfortunately, despite my clipping, beneficial nutrients had already been robbing the other living heads. It was going to take meticulous care to help them grow.

What I didn't note in my purchase was that it is nearly winter in my location. This means a few things.

1. My home is now dryer than usual despite our region's ordinarily humid climate. Inside is where I decided to keep him due to reason #2.

2. I cannot keep Beasty outside as it is now cold, but in the summer he may have flourished there.

3. Because it is now nearly winter, there are fewer flies, gnats, spiders, and other creepy crawlies to feed my beloved fellow.

I have begun to wonder if I should have left poor Beasty on the shelf for another caretaker who was more worthy than I to provide for him. As he withers, I feel it is he who is harmed by his owner's sheer ignorance. I am failing as his plant-parent, but have now renewed my vow as his provider. I cannot let him waste away.

How am I to remedy this?

1. I am upgrading his current housing situation. Apparently, the little plastic pot he came with is bad for his health. Adding a clay pot over top of it did not help. The only thing I did properly with his repotting was removing the large plastic tube little Beasty was packaged inside of beforehand. He will be getting an upgrade to a proper terrarium, and will continue to remain indoors with the rest of the family. Apparently, the terrarium will provide him the humid climate he needs, and allow for more sunlight without exposure to cold drafts.

2. Potting soil will be exchanged for sand and moss. He was planted in potting soil when I purchased him, but Venus flytraps do not grow in potting soil. Instead, their growing environment should be 1/3 sand, 2/3 peat moss with small rocks for drainage purposes within a terrarium. These plants surprisingly thrive in poor, acidic soil that is kept damp, but well-drained. I should have researched this to prepare for him properly. More often than not, stores sell plants in the wrong sort of soil and wrong sort of pot and it is unfortunately on the purchaser to figure out how to remedy an improper planting situation. Doing so uninformed and spontaneously was a poor decision on my part.

3. I'll be catching creepy crawlies of appropriate size for my dear plant's dinner. Beasty is really not that large of a plant. Insects should be 1/3 the size of his traps in order for him to catch and eat them properly. The common gnat will be good for him currently, but in addition to flies, he can have small spiders, beetles, and caterpillars. Insects must be alive when feeding him. While he would ordinarily be a self-sufficient plant that catches his own dinner if kept outside in warmer months, I bought him at a time when he would be reliant on his caregiver for survival. While he can go 1-2 months without eating insects, I should still strive to feed him properly more frequently and I am unsure if he has caught any insects since his purchase.

Despite my experience in plant-owning, I should have known that not all plants are the same. I have treated each of my plants according to its type in the past, and they have flourished. My Venus flytrap, however, is a different sort of plant entirely that requires very different care from my past buds. I should have known his requirements and needs would be far different to fulfill. We're having our "growing pains" as a family (one of us literally), but we'll get there. Poor Beasty! I'm at least learning to understand his needs and better provide for him in the future. As he is still hanging on decently well (considering), I can't help but think he hasn't lost faith in me yet.