Fresh Ink, LC.

Ant farming is the perfect alternative to falconry. It satisfies that yearning to be with nature, to observe a wild creature doing what it does naturally. You sit on Mother Nature’s lap and become a partner with a creature’s destiny. Sure, the cool factor of an ant tunneling its way around a plastic box may be less than a falcon shredding dead air, but when was the last time you heard someone get fired because they took an unexpected week off looking for a lost ant?

Imagine what eavesdroppers might hear while you’re thumping on honey dew or sniffing the rear end of a cantaloupe at the grocery store. Your cell phone rings. You answer and listen to your friend whose bird did not perform as planned. (Yeah, like that ever happens!) Your face gets that puzzled, yet philosophic falconer look about it. “Hmmm,” you say with the same certainty of a doctor who just heard the description of a malady he is certain he has never heard of. Then you resort to the best advice in falconry, just to be safe, and declare it boldly: “She’s too fat.”