I was a youngish, single mother, working as a business owner doing pet grooming. On the side I also sold feeder crickets. As you can imagine... Yes, it was just too much of a temptation for the dog-dogs, and they would just have to dump over the cricket bucket on the floor and have "play" time! Play-time did not consist of doggies chasing crickets, as you might think would happen. No, doggies got to sit back and laugh at the silly humans who, I'm sure, looked hysterical chasing 3,000 crickets around the floor, attempting some semblance of a "Bug's Life roundup"!
Of course, we had loose crickets all over the shop. Every now and then a brave one would "play chicken" with the vacuum cleaner, or attempt a shower with a dog. I made the statement one day that "These crickets are downright suicidal." Thus, Cuicyde Cricket was born.
His Story:
Harry Ford Mouse Cricket the third millionth was named after a series of his mother's heroes, proving once again that she had a sense of humor. Other than his given name, for which he endured much grief, there was nothing special about Harry. He was just one of millions of crickets that seemed to have no exceptional talents, uses, or purposes in life. Harry was also a lonely cricket, who didn't have any real cricket friends, even though he hung out with a few other depressed souls now and then at the Fermenting Potato Bar, or The Moldering Orange Cafe in the back of the cage. Time and again he would think to himself, "What's the use?" "Why go On?" or other similar, even darker thoughts. Over the years, he'd had friends and family members who had committed suicide, and he wondered if maybe this wouldn't be the best option for himself as well. His pain was deep, and at times, others could be cruel, and all he really wanted was an escape from his brutal reality. But for some reason he continued on, day after day, after long, hard day. Finally, when Harry had endured 7 years of feeling so empty inside, so pained, and so alone - something happened to make his normal routine a little different. A giant paw came from nowhere and freed all the crickets from their captivity. Much confusion ensued, and many of his cricket friends were returned to captivity. But Harry escaped, and remained at large. He felt guilty for a long time over his newfound freedom, while yet knowing friends of his were suffering still. So he set out on a campaign to cheer the confined crickets, until such time as they also gained freedom, or fulfilled their own destinies. He found a tiny leather jacket, and motorcycle on display on a shelf in the shop that had been his home for so long, and with newfound purpose, began his life anew. He became Cuicyde Cricket, a daredevil of a Cricket, defying death with each wild trip he embarked upon. From jumping his motorcycle over lizard cages, to swimming with the sharks, he showed a new enthusiasm for life. And with each new adventure, something strange began to happen to Cuicyde. He began to focus less on his problems and more on enjoying life. He began talking to other crickets who felt suicidal too, and began helping them find solutions that assisted them in their own lives. All the crickets began to show signs of happiness that hadn't been present before, because they had all become interested in one another, and in finding out what challenging things they were capable of. Cuicyde still does his daredevil stunts; you'll find him lion taming scorpions, rock climbing with tarantulas, bungee jumping with frogs, and tattooing turtle shells, but the biggest thing you will find him doing is assisting others in need. He knows the struggle and wants so much to spread to others, his story; how when he thinks back now and remembers how close he came to giving up like some of his friends and family members did, he finds himself being grateful that he is still here instead. His mission is to let every lost Cricket out there know that he was once lost too. Also, that sometimes it takes patience and perseverance to find yourself, but once you do, it's sooo worth it.
Cuicyde Cricket is a nameless, faceless, daredevil, of a cricket that found acceptable outlets for his pain, and in doing so, found a way to help others also. He could be anybody, anytime, anyplace. He's just finding ways to bring others hope and good cheer. He wears a semi-colon on his back at all times. The semi-colon reminds everyone he crosses paths with, to just take time to pause before you do something you cannot undo, and try to reflect on just one positive thing each day, and try to hang on. Because even if it seems that no one else cares - Cuicyde Cricket does, and so do many others, including some you've not even met yet...