Last August, on our way home from our family holiday at the Heritage and Culture Camp near Harrisonburg, VA, we stopped at a pet store and bought a pair of hermit crabs.

It was J who lobbied for them, because he had seen the hermit crab brought in to his after school program on pet-sharing day, and he thought they looked fun and cool.

He named them “Slo-mo” and “Chase”.

I have no idea which is (was) which.

Hermit crabs are nocturnal, and they sometimes bury themselves under the substrate of their terrarium, so that they aren’t apparent to any observer for days on end.  They are not particularly friendly or interactive pets.

One of them died a couple of months ago, and we thought the second died, as well, but he (she?) seems to be of stronger stuff (or maybe just younger), and this one lives on.

I have no idea if there is a way of telling how old a hermit crab is, so the one who passed on may have lived a full and fulfilled hermit crab life.

Every now and then, J will do his duty by this remaining crab, and change the fresh water, and the salt water, and replenish the food, and mist the habitat. But, most days, it’s either me or Dad who is doing hermit crab care duty.

We are eagerly awaiting the fulfillment of the remaining crab’s days on this Earth, and will celebrate his (her?) return to the dust from which he (she) came.

Amen.