Family mourns molting crab

Bailey cried. It appeared to be a monumental disaster. Her pet hermit crab, Speedy, was dead.

At least, I thought it was when I saw pieces of the crab scattered about outside its shell. It looked like some crab-crazy serial killer had done the damage inside the plastic tank in Bailey's room.

I actually spotted the crab catastrophe a few days earlier. But how was I going to tell Bailey that her pet crab was dead?

So I did the only logical thing: I waited until Joni told her.

Moms, after all, should be better able to explain such disasters to their children. At least, I hoped that was the case.

Joni waited until the right time. She told Bailey after school one day, settled her down, and then promptly proceeded to go to the gym with our older daughter, Becca.

Joni left me to deal with a tearful Bailey who had just lost her beloved hermit crab.

I tried to reassure her. "Hermit crabs don't live long," I told her.

"We've had this crab for about two years," I told her.

"That's old in crab years," I explained.

But that didn't stop the tears. To Bailey, it was a huge tragedy.

I informed Bailey that we needed to bury Speedy. "We don't want him to stink up your room," I told her in my most soothing voice as privately I contemplated whether it might be time to get Bailey a hamster.

"Bring down the tank," I told her.

A tearful, sobbing Bailey started downstairs, carrying the plastic tank that now had seemingly become Speedy's tomb. I figured we'd have to hold an impromptu funeral.

Suddenly, she screamed.

What happened now, I wondered.

"Speedy's alive," she shouted. "He's alive."

I rushed to the bottom of the stairs.

Yes, Speedy was alive. Bailey and I saw his legs wiggling from underneath his shell.

How could that be?

Was this a baby crab? I didn't think so. After all, Speedy hadn't been making out with any other crabs since we purchased him as a pet from a mall kiosk. He lived alone.

Naturally, I immediately went to the Internet to search for the answer.

What I discovered was that Speedy had been molting, shedding his former exoskeleton frame for a new one. In effect, Speedy was shedding his skin.

I didn't know that hermit crabs molted.

According to the World Wide Web, astute crab watchers can tell that their pets are getting ready to molt because they undergo a personality change. They become inactive and bury themselves in the sand.

Of course, that's pretty much what our pet crab does every day.

But molting is exhausting for crabs, according to the information we pulled up on the Internet.

We learned that crabs like quiet when they're trying to regain their energy from all that molting.

Bailey carried the plastic tank back up to her room and carefully slid it onto a shelf. She turned out the light. Bailey spent the rest of the evening reminding us all not to shout because we would disturb her exhausted crab.

Still, I was worried that Speedy might have difficulty recovering from all that molting.

I had removed the discarded appendages of Speedy's former self and thrown them in the trash. It was only later that I learned that you should leave the stuff because crabs consume the old exoskeleton which provides them a source of calcium.

But several days have passed now, and Speedy is still alive. The whole family's glad.

I'm particularly thrilled that I don't have to eulogize our pet crab just yet.

In Speedy's world, life's not a shell game.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.