Maybe we SHOULD get a puppy

Because this hermit crab is creeping me out!

They are a dime a dozen (not literally, I think we wasted $6 or so on this critter and his magic cage) in Virginia Beach. Sucker mom that I am, I told Max we could get one (this WITHOUT consulting his dad! Sorry!)

I waxed nostalgic and told him (Max) about my first hermit crab ever, Crawly. I shall recount this tale for you now! Once upon a time in the 70s we were walking down Bishop Street. Mrs. L. looked down and saw something like a snail. We picked it up and it looked like...well, a snail that had something VERY wrong with it! Someone figured out it was a hermit crab. A neighbor told us that some teenagers who lived on that street had taken a zoo-sponsored trip to the Caribbean and brought back these little hermit crabs in their socks. (I assume they weren't wearing them at the time, but rather used them for soft little pet carriers.) I already had a snail, so this was exciting! I took him home and named him Crawly. The rest is history.

The second one I had was Hermy Jr. Hermy was my brother's hermit crab. He had 2 and kindly let me have one. It was hard to tell them apart; alas, Hermy Jr. seemed to be the dead one when there was a choice between the two, and an identification had to be made. Hermy and Hermy Jr. were pets after I left for college, so my brother took care of them both. (The demise of Hermy Jr., if it was indeed Hermy Jr., was entirely due to natural causes.)

But I must be getting old because this particular hermit crab, GreenSea, scares me a little bit. Oh, it was somewhat funny to see myself reflected in my son when he got totally fixated for about 48 hours and talked of nothing BUT the care and feeding of hermit crabs! We called Uncle Ben several times to ask what they ate (answer: lettuce, Grape-Nuts, an occasional raisin, lots of fresh water, and sometimes a teensy piece of shrimp or something---no wonder they're so skinny!) I got to tell the stories of Crawly, Hermy, and Hermy Jr. several times. He almost stopped worrying that the fish would be dead when we came home (incessant worry! Another heritable trait!).

GreenSea skritches around all night. This is a sound like mice in the house, only it's him, this pinchy prickly pet with his eerily painted shell (truly sea green) climbing up and down the sides of his cage. I had to pick him up yesterday. Eek, yipes, he's a bit too large for his shell and it looks like he's trying to escape when you pick him up! Max put other shells in his cage but they're like little clam shells, not the kind he can wear. (According to Uncle Ben, they do need extra shells so they can change clothes frequently as they grow--maybe that Grape Nut diet isn't so helpful after all--but in captivity a shell is less necessary. "One ran around naked for quite some time" he reports.)

Max and Ben say if you tap him on the head when he starts to pinch you, it makes him go back in his shell. Ouch on all counts. I don't want to have to do this. If I find him skittering around in the bathtub you will all hear me yell.