Dead Crab Walkin’

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It’s true, I don’t love animals.  I’d like to.  I try.  And then some dog ends up humping my leg, and I land right back where I was before – one who does not love animals.

They’re cute to look at – sort of like someone else’s baby.

“Oooo.  He’s so frickin’ cuuute!”

Then he poops.  And he’s not as cute.  And he smells like my grandfather after dinner at El Rodeo.

But as much as I am not an animal fanatic, I wish them no harm.  If someone else is feeding them and brushing them and paying their vet bills, I’m good.  I am perfectly happy to sit by dogs at the outside cafe tables at my local pub.  Who doesn’t like to have their crotch sniffed while they eat dinner?  Count me in!

That being said, I think I killed our Hermit crab.

I have tried to blame someone else in the family, but I am the responsible adult.  I must admit my error.

He, I’d call him by name but I don’t think he had one, was 13 months old.  As I washed out his dookie filled aquarium, I have wished him dead.  I actually let him crawl around the kitchen counter in the hopes that he would fall to his death.  He didn’t.  He just sat and watched me scrub.

We left him without food and water when we went to the beach in June.  He’s upstairs – out of site, out of mind.  He survived that 7 day fast. Two weeks later we left again.  But this time, I thought of him.  I filled a bowl with H2O and planted his sponge right in the middle.  When we returned, I think he’d gained weight.

But the next two weeks were busy.  Kids were out of town.  Michelle went to camp.  I seldom went upstairs – there was no reason.

When I returned from dropping Stephanie at overnight camp today, I took some of her excess stuff back up to her room.  When I walked into the bathroom, I spotted him.  He was hanging out of his shell.  He had crawled up to the sponge.  It was dryer than the Atacama Desert.  His little claw was perched, open, pointing toward his usual water source.

I haven’t called for an autopsy, but I feel certain the cause of death was dehydration.

I can’t blame DJ.  It wasn’t her crab, and she’s been at camp all summer.  I emailed Stephanie tonight – I called her a crab murderer.  She’s been living upstairs.  I know he belonged to Michelle, but for goodness sake.  If you walked by a starving Hermit crab, wouldn’t you respond?  Wouldn’t you take the time to soak the sponge?

She can’t be blamed.  She got her braces off this week.  He lived in the bathroom, and the times she was in there she was looking in the mirror, enamored with her beautiful new mouth.

And Michelle?  Yes, she should have reminded meto water him in her absence.  But who can think of crabs when there are decisions to make about what to wear to the camp dance?

So, that leaves me.  I am the one.  I killed him.

I feel so guilty.

 

 

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17 Comments

  1. Mom

     /  July 16, 2014

    I noticed there was no pleeeese Daddy, can we get new a crab this summer at Calabash. Maybe they have outgrown crabs. A dog would remind you. He would give you no choice! Or find the commode. A cat would give you no peace until you fulfilled her needs. Maybe you have chosen the wrong animal. If you ever get brave enough to get another animal we will put a reminder on your phone and make it very loud and annoying. For now I think you just better skip fathering an animal. You’re too busy with girls and a job to have time for a poor little innocent animal. You need something that has a build in reminder…like a howl or a scratch on the leg. It’s ok. It’s hard to raise a crab and three girls at the same time. Girls howl so loudly that it’s hard to remember that there is a small, quiet little crab needing your attention. Besides…that IS the girls job!

    Reply
  2. Shame on you for killing the crab!
    But, you join the ranks of many great parents that have let a pet expire while the kid was at camp! I haven’t – but my dad, bless his heart, was going to be kind and clean out the fish tank whilst I was away, and couldn’t find the “cotton” that goes in the filter, so he just grabbed a washrag. That was full of detergent chemicals. That got into the tank and poisoned the fish. So I came home to an empty – but clean – fish tank!

    Reply
  3. My daughter has been asking for a dog for several years (she even made a power point presentation!), and I have been trying to convince myself that this might be a good idea. I, too, am not a pet lover. Thanks for making it ok to admit that!

    Reply
  4. I’m with you – I don’t love animals. We have a frog, but it’s really my kids’ and husband’s pet. I’ll pour water in the terrarium when I notice it’s dry, but I won’t touch it or feed it – crickets are nasty little buggers, and I have no desire to touch them in order to feed the frog!

    Reply
  5. Pauline Hovey

     /  July 16, 2014

    Love your sense of humor. It makes your posts fun and easy to read. I am a pet lover, though — I admit it. I have a dog. But he’s never tried to hump my leg.

    Reply
    • Danny Tanner

       /  July 16, 2014

      It’s nice that he doesn’t hump the leg. I might actually like him.

      Reply
  6. Aunt Susan

     /  July 17, 2014

    What happened to Rocky, Ricky, and/or Rochelle?

    Reply
  7. Marie

     /  July 17, 2014

    Thanks for the laugh!! I thoroughly enjoyed it {the post} the laugh too.

    Reply
  8. Dana

     /  July 17, 2014

    We had many hermit crabs growing up. One of the first though, my mom buried alive. We missed the memo that they shed their skins, so be careful and make sure he’s really dead! :)

    Reply
    • Danny Tanner

       /  July 20, 2014

      I just cleaned out my attic and found three other crab cages. Waste of money!!

      Reply
  9. Mom

     /  July 18, 2014

    Now there’s a pet for you, isn’t it Susan? He or she would have definitely let him know when he needed water!

    Reply
  10. I feel you. My son once had a tadpole in an aquarium. (very young at the time), and he kept waiting for it to turn into a frog. We told him he’d have to wait for the tail to come off. When no one was around, he tried to pull it off, then came and got me, told me something was wrong with his tadpole. It was flopping around in the water, mauled and pitiful.

    Reply
    • Danny Tanner

       /  July 20, 2014

      I don’t know what’s worse. Starving a crab to death or pulling a tabpole’s butt off.

      Reply
  11. I just found your blog and I’m so glad!! You are so funny! Hilarious! I was an animal lover before I had kids. Now… not so much. It’s weird. So I understand.

    Reply

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