Supposed optimum living conditions. And it didn’t even drop any legs, like some hermit crabs do when they get stressed and ill. Just half crawled out of its shell today and was lethargic and limp. So we put it in an isolation tank away from the other crabs and this evening it crawled completely out of its shell and fell over dead. Laid there on its back. I tapped it to make sure. Didn’t move.
“It’s dead,” I told H.o.p.
“We should have a funeral in the morning,” he said. “With a box for a coffin so nothing will eat it.”
“You find the box.”
“No, you find the box. OK? I’ll find a flower for it,” he said. “And we’ll sing a song.”
“OK.”
“I feel bad for the hermit crab. It didn’t deserve to die,” said H.o.p.
Then I’m writing this and get up and I pass back by and lift up the towel draped over the isolation tank, and there’s the hermit crab, still alive, still out of its shell though, but it has crawled up on top of its sponge.
“So, it’s not time yet for a proper burial,” said H.o.p.
Leave a Reply