Yesterday, Amy found a monarch butterfly resting on our black driveway. Cold air had come down from Canada overnight and we got blasted with winter temperatures. The poor migrating monarch was caught in the middle of the cold spell. They often can't fly if the temperature drops below 60 degrees Farenheit. That must be what happened to this little girl. And I know it's a girl. I love having the Internet at my fingertips because I wouldn't have known any of this stuff about how to identify one or how to care for it while waiting for the temperature to rise so it can go on its merry way. Did you know that they usually fly about 50 miles a day? Another fact gleaned from the Internet.

I've got her resting in a glass jar that has holes poked in its lid. There's a bit of cloth in the bottom of the jar so she won't slip around. Addilyn enjoyed taking care of her in a plastic container yesterday but I got to thinking that the butterfly might thinks she's going blind by not being able to see out of her confining quarters so I put her in a jar after I enjoyed having her climb all over me--my shirt, my arms and, as you can see, my nose. She looked like she was resting more calmly after I got the bright idea of putting a nonslip surface in her new home. Then I tried to get some food in her.

I discovered via the web how to feed her. You mix 1 part sugar to 4 parts water. Or 1 part honey to 5 parts water. That's the one I decided to do. I combined the honey and water and then heated it up slightly in the microwave to dissolve it. That was the easy part. The hard part was trying to get her to feed. Those four little legs just keep waving out for something to hold onto so trying to pull out her proboscis was difficult. I became resigned to the fact that I was going to have to learn to pull that proboscis out because she just wasn't pulling it out on her own. Even with my glasses on I wasn't confident about finding it, so I pressed her nose against the honey water. Her tongue unrolled a bit so, at least, I finally could see where it was but I still wasn't sure about pulling it out on my own. The websites I looked at said to pull it out with a pin (another one said use a toothpick) but, like I said, even with my glasses on I wasn't comfortable with either method. So, she didn't eat at all last night.

Overnight, I got to thinking that I didn't want this girl to be another one of my failed attempts to rescue a winged creature. I had tried to save two or three birds in the past and failed miserably to get them fed properly and they all died. Letting her go today didn't seem like an option because the temperatures weren't nearing 60 at all and it was very windy. The poor thing would be pushed back to Ontario. So, I braved another attempt at locating that proboscis and getting it uncoiled. And, you know, it wasn't really all that hard after all. Taking trusty pin in one hand, and gently holding the butterfly with wings closed in the other, and positioning a small lid of honey water on my belly, I proceeded to probe gingerly around for that elusive tongue. A few ultragentle pokes and it revealed itself. After several tries, I got the loop and very tenderly pulled the whole proboscis down into the honey water. All it took was one little taste and she was off to town. She drank for several minutes with all four feet in it. One foot was keeping balance by holding onto the pin. I figured that when she had drunk her fill she would recoil her tongue and that's just what she did. But I pulled it down one more time just to make sure she was done. She drank for a few seconds more but then rolled it back in. I put a tiny puddle of water on my desk and dipped her feet in it. That's to get the sticky stuff off her feet which I understand isn't good for her to keep on them. Wah, I fed a butterfly today.

Back to her jar she went. Then about two hours later I fed her again. It was easier that time. I wasn't sure how often she needed to be fed so I opted to try every three hours. She ate each time I pulled her out. By the third time, she let her tongue down without my help at all. I let her walk around on my shirt for five minutes to exercise her wings but when the cats got too interested in her I had to put her back in the jar. We just might get her through these next couple of cold days and then she'll be released to continue her journey. A migrating monarch lives through the winter in Mexico so it would be very worth my time and hers to get her back in the air.

October 14, 2006 - addendum