Step into the heart of Pantdora, a vibrant rainforest vivarium teeming with life and surprises. From a mysterious egg with an uncertain future to the challenges of balancing a biodiverse ecosystem, this journey uncovers the delicate dance of nature’s wonders. What secrets will Pantdora reveal next? Let’s find out together!

Digging Up a Mystery Egg That I Buried in My Giant Rainforest Vivarium

Over a month ago, I found this mystery egg in my yard behind my chicken coop. I live in the tropics, in the middle of a jungle, so my yard is full of the craziest giant and even venomous reptiles, including monitor lizards and cobras. I showed the egg to reptile experts, and the consensus was that it was some kind of lizard or snake, and some specifically mentioned cobra. But a few of the experts also suggested it was probably dead, seeing as it had been out of the ground and looked super dehydrated, judging from the huge dent it had. I tried to shine a light into it—a process called “candling”—to see if it had a fetus or arteries inside. I didn’t see anything, so I assumed the egg was a dud.

So, instead of throwing the egg away, I decided to make use of the nutrients and buried it in the soil of my giant rainforest vivarium, which I call Pantdora, home to an ecosystem of tropical plants, fungi, and animals. But to my surprise, after checking the egg again a month later, the egg still hadn’t rotted like I thought it would, and the dent had eerily disappeared. Was the mystery egg actually alive? Was there a fetus developing inside now? This week, curiosity got the better of me, and I went back in to have a final look at the egg. What I found was not what I expected at all. Please SUBSCRIBE to the channel and hit the BELL ICON. Welcome to the AC Family! Enjoy!

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Should I candle the mystery egg again? I thought it was dead, but it still hasn’t rotted even after over a month in my giant vivarium! The only thing is, I’m scared to touch it now. You guys said… “Don’t touch it! If it hatches, let it!” I had been watching this spot in the vivarium like a hawk, wondering if one day I would spot a hole in the soil caused by some baby animal emerging from the egg. The fact that even after all this time, it hadn’t rotted was highly suspicious. But according to a community tab poll, most of you said I should just leave it and let it hatch naturally. However, a lot of you guys brought up a good point in the comments, saying that if a venomous snake like a cobra hatched from the egg, it would be in my best interest to find out if the egg was viable and see if a snake fetus was developing inside. This way, I could remove the egg and incubate it in a safe and secured container and not have it hatch in Pantdora, where it would be hazardous to try to catch afterward. On the other hand, the current environment in the soil seemed to be perfect for the egg’s incubation. I was afraid if I touched it or moved it wrong, the egg might die if it was alive. I didn’t know it yet, but this whole mystery egg situation would soon lead me to more questions, and I knew I had some serious decisions to make.

See these random drops of water? I never thought anything of it and assumed it was just runoff from the daily automated rains in the rainforest. But upon further inspection, it seems the back of the moss wall was leaking behind the waterfall, which caused water to seep into an unsealed section of the framing, and down this spot into the soil. I spotted the water pooling in the lowest area of the vivarium and quickly dealt with the flood by using a vacuum to suck water from a hole I dug into the drainage layer, as I’ve done in the past the last time it flooded in Pantdora! But now to deal with the leak behind the moss wall. There was just no way to get in there to patch up the leak, as the entire rock wall piece was completely siliconed to the glass. The only solution I could think of was to disconnect the pump from the pipe that leads to the waterfall spout above. This way, it could stop the leak from behind the rock wall, and therefore the water entering the framing and ending up in the soil.

Going in to make the necessary changes would be dangerous due to a certain beast who was possibly sleeping somewhere among the rocks. Godzilla wasn’t on the bank basking, which meant he was in one of two places: sleeping in the mossy hill next to the pond, which is where I hoped he was, but at this point, I couldn’t see him, or he could be hiding in his watery bedroom at a corner of the pond. I had no choice but to go in carefully and quickly to move the rocks and disconnect the filter pump beneath, watching carefully for any signs of a croc wanting to feast on my fingers. “OK Godzilla, if you’re in here please don’t bite me. I’m not here to hurt you. Promise to be quick!” I tried my best to work rapidly, placing my hand at the furthest spot away from where I knew Godzilla’s rock bedroom was. So far there was nothing. I worked blindly, feeling around with my fingers for the pump which needed disconnection, preparing at any moment to pull away at the slightest movement or feeling of scales. And then, I did it.

The pump was disconnected, and pulling my arm out of the water I was happy that I still had all my fingers intact. Godzilla was nowhere in sight the whole time. Now the pond would just have to have circulating water as it passes through the filter, until I could figure out how to restructure this part of the vivarium, but sadness started to sink in to see that Pantdora, for the first time since its creation, no longer had a waterfall—at least for now. Later that day, I spotted Godzilla up on the rock bank, still wet, having emerged from the pond, which meant that the entire time I had my hand in the water, he had chosen not to bite me and simply lay quietly in hiding. Thank you, Godzilla. To reward him for not biting me, I recently collected these from my yard: rhino beetle grubs! I suspect that it is currently rhino beetle grub season, because I found a ton of these while gardening around my home. I took one and attempted to feed it to Godzilla.

I opened the vivarium and moved in with my long tweezers. I dropped the beetle grub right in front of Godzilla, but it rolled away. “Ahhh! OK, gotta pick that up.” As I tried again, Godzilla suddenly lunged. “Woah! That was close! Almost managed to bite my hand there, buddy!” Finally, I placed the grub right in front of him, and he snapped it up. Man, that was the very first time I’ve ever fed him directly from my tweezers, and I could truly feel the power of his bite. It feels like he would give quite the snap if he ever did manage to bite me.

Godzilla chewed on the beetle grub for a bit and then moved towards the pond, where he stationed himself on the rock shelf. As I looked back to the pit where the mystery egg was buried, I couldn’t help but feel anxious. Matters could get much worse if I didn’t find out whether the egg was viable. Imagine having to fish out some baby cobra or even a baby water monitor with Godzilla living inside Pantdora. This wasn’t just about my safety, but also his.

So, I decided I should go ahead and check the mystery egg. “Uh… OK, on second thought… maybe not!” Godzilla had decided to crawl into the pit and retire deep inside the mossy hill for the day. “Alright, and scene!” I thought. I’d have to wait until he was out of there before going in to inspect the egg.

Meanwhile, I had a full bowl of rhino beetle grubs and couldn’t wait to add them into Pantdora. I truly missed having rhino beetles in Pantdora and particularly loved it when we had Rocksteady, our first rhino beetle, frolicking in the forest before he died of natural causes. These rhino beetle grubs would help my dream of bringing rhino beetles back to Pantdora come to life, but little did I know, I was about to make a very grave mistake with their introduction.

I placed the grubs onto a bare plot of earth in our rainforest. They immediately began to squirm around, hoping to dig deep into the protective soils. They were too vulnerable above ground like this, so to help them out, I began to dig into the earth to start a burrow for them, to assist their subterranean travels. But without realizing it, I had chosen perhaps the worst spot ever. It was a bit dark, so I didn’t realize my mistake until it was too late.

Marauder ants! I had unknowingly dug right into the nest of our marauder ant colony, and the ants were now swarming the grubs. I had delivered them a feast right to their doorstep. These ants had been largely missing in action for weeks, and I had wondered where they were nesting. It was sad to get my answer in this way. I could do nothing but watch the carnage unfold as the grubs struggled to dig below the ground to escape the swarming ants.

Some grubs did make it below ground, but to where? Marauder ant nest chambers? I felt terrible for this. Giant trap-jaw ants were drawn to the scene. They could smell the beetle grubs but also were aware of the swarm of marauders and were careful not to tread too close. One brave giant trap-jaw ant risked it all by wandering through the swarming ants and struck at a marauder, sending it flying into oblivion.

At this point, there were only a few grubs still above ground. The rest had successfully burrowed, but whether it was to their safety or to their doom was a mystery. The remaining grubs began to weaken as the ants stung them to death. As for the giant trap-jaw ants, one came close enough to smell a grub but decided that sticking around was too risky and bolted.

The battle between marauder ants, beetle grubs, and giant trap-jaw ants left me stunned. I had just made a serious realization. Some of you used to ask me in the comments how I’ll know when I’ve added enough creatures into the rainforest. I’ve always felt that when our rainforest was “full,” I would see signs. Before, I could simply add things into the vivarium without problems, but now that our rainforest ecosystem was super biodiverse and saturated, this incident felt like a warning from Pantdora. Every choice I made now could have grave consequences affecting many life forms. I had best choose my moves wisely from here on in, and that included creatures waiting to be born.

Speaking of creatures born in our rainforest, atop the Hallelujah Tree Stump, a tiny head peeked out over the edge. It was Snip, our resident baby sun skink, basking in the morning light. An Asian bullet ant headed up the stump towards Snip, and my heart began to race, but the moment the ant made contact, it dashed away. It was not willing to mess with this reptile today.

I marveled at the gorgeous blue iridescence Snip sported in the light. Snip had been born in this rainforest from sun skinks that used to live here but that I released several months back. I initially thought he was the only baby here until I spotted another one a couple of weeks ago. Snap, another baby sun skink, was on the prowl. It had just rained this morning, and this sun skink knew full well that this was the best time to hunt for critters that would be flooded out of their hiding spots.

The circle of life in Pantdora never ceases to amaze me. However, with each new discovery, I learn that maintaining this delicate ecosystem requires careful thought and a deep respect for nature’s intricate balance.

Pantdora is full of surprises, and I can’t wait to see what happens next. If you enjoyed this journey, make sure to subscribe and hit the bell icon to join us for more adventures!

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