There was double tragedy this week at Chez Cellania. We lost 33% of our indoor critters. The parakeet expired suddenly, as far as we know. No symptoms of illness, no signs of trauma, just a dead bird in the cage. An ex-parakeet. It was nighttime Sunday and the kids had social obligations the next day, so I put her in a check box and put her away for a couple of days til we had time for a funeral. Then Tuesday while the kids were in school, I watched in vain as our oldest hermit crab stopped scuttling about and curled up. He fit in a tiny box, the kind you get when you buy jewelry.
We held a double funeral that afternoon, with proper flatstone monuments down by the abandoned swing set. Yes, there were tears.
A Eulogy for Vanilla
My sweet little Vanilla. You were only with us for about a month. You didn’t even get a proper name; that was just what the pet shop keeper called you. I tried to explain that was just a term he used for your color, but it stuck anyway. Banana Cream Pie would have made just as much sense. You took abuse from the alpha bird, Star, and didn’t put up a fight. I figured you were somewhat of a pussy, but maybe you didn’t feel so good. We didn’t know you were on your last legs til you dropped like a basketball player with an undiagnosed heart murmur. Stiff in the bottom of the cage. You were supposed to sing, but you croaked instead.
A Eulogy for Mr. McShellshell
Ah, Mr. McShellshell. I laughed when you got your name. I wouldn’t have laughed if I had known you would die of embarrassment over it. You were the first crab I ever loved. Although you could be crabby, that’s only to be expected. I loved the way you rearranged your pen every time the kids “straightened it up”. No matter how evenly they distributed the seashells, you would pile them in a corner as soon as they turned their backs. I loved how you put rocks in your water dish so you could prop your shell on them and dangle your feet in the water. I loved how you would venture out of your shell a bit to cock one of your eye stalks at me and wave a claw in my direction. Or was it a plea for help? Were you sick? How could I have known? Were you elderly? You were quite large for a hermit crab. When you came completely out of your shell, I thought it was cute, although your back end was kind of ugly. When you wandered through the other shells and couldn’t find one to suit you, I should have known the end was near.
Rest in Peace
It was tough, but the kids got over it in record time. Now we have three hermit crabs, since it took two smaller ones to replace Mr. McShellshell. Crabby and Patty joined the senior crab, Lime. I hope they are young enough to last a while. And once again, we have two birds. The widower Star did as so many men do; he remarried immediately. Her name is Crystal. Just like a proper trophy wife, she is skinnier and feistier than Vanilla.
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I laughed. I cried. My emotions ran the gammet from A to B. I thought I had the market cornered w/the mummified remains of our Leopard Gecko Houdini in a check box. Time marches on (for some).....