‘As undertakers we are fastidious’ – my week as a vespillo burying beetle

Monday

By this time there were two of us. We’re strong fliers and we made the journey across the Surrey night with little trouble. And there it was: just about perfect. A short-tailed field vole: dead, ripe and luscious. Nothing became him in this life like the leaving of it. It wasn’t just delicious: it was the start of family life.

Tuesday

I’m sure your knowledge of Latin is greater than mine, and that I don’t need to tell that a vespillo is a person who buries paupers. Also a night-thief, but we’re no thieves. Humble buriers of the deceased, that’s us. First we moved the vole a few yards to a more suitable spot and then we removed the fur and shaped the body into a neat ball. As undertakers we are always fastidious. After that we began to excavate underneath it. At the same time we covered it with earth. Down it went. What greater ceremony? We could hardly have done a better job if we’d put up a cross and a weeping angel.

Wednesday

She laid the eggs as soon as we got the late vole underground: all around the corpse. We then rested up and feasted on vole: in the certain knowledge that life was about to get pretty hectic.

Thursday

Some beetles lay as many eggs as possible and just leave them, hoping that at least one offspring will somehow survive. I wouldn’t presume to criticise a fellow coleopteran, but that’s not the way it’s done among vespillos. The eggs hatched and it was time to tend the grubs. To defend them from anything that might want to share the vole and take a grub or two as an hors d’oeuvre.

Friday

And we both also fed them on pre-digested vole: nothing’s too good for our grubs. Believe me, it’s the right way to start them. Below ground it’s an absolutely frenzy of family life: and the grubs are growing before our eyes. It’s 95% worry and 5% satisfaction: but as all K-strategists know no matter what taxon they come from, that’s parenting.

Saturday

We’re getting there. Maybe another week still to go. And then our lives will be fulfilled and the grubs will have pupated and the vole will have served us as well in death as he served himself in life. The last offspring of the year will overwinter as pupae and emerge into the spring looking for love. And of course death.

Lifespan One year in total

Eating habits: You can’t beat a nice corpse

Hobbies Tombs

Sexual preferences It’s those orange bobbles on the antennae that always get me