RIP, the death of a hermit crab.

Rip Van Winkle was a one-eyed hermit crab.  He was a crusty companion for my kids for about a year, along with his friend Houdini.  His little life passed on last night, laying cold and naked in his little oasis in the girls bedroom.  My 3 youngest children cried as hard as they would over a family member and their forlorn wails broke my heart.  This wasn't the first time a pet passed away, we've got a whole cemetary out behind the shed where our hamsters, another hermit crab and a hedgehog were laid to rest.  There were also numerous fish, but they took the water-way express to Fish Heaven via the toilet.

We discovered the shell-less crustacean shortly after returning from dinner out.  My husband tried to warm it up, but it was obvious that the creature had just died.  I went from child to child trying to comfort their grieving, but to no avail.  Their father stood there as if trying to will the crab to revive and end the heartbreak, but it did not.  I was so touched by the bewildered, helpless look on his face.  He was so used to fixing things and righting situations, but this one was out of his hands and there was nothing he could do at the time to ease his childrens' pain.  So he just stood there, blowing warm air on to the cold, lifeless body of the hermit crab.  I think I loved him just a little more at that instant.

The children have accepted the crab's death well now and insist that Houdini, the remaining crab, needs a companion.  So we will go out and get another hermit crab.  My husband wonders about the wisdom because he hated seeing the children so hurt over the death of their pet, but I see it as a lesson in life.  They have already had to deal with the untimely death of a very dear family friend and it devastated them.  Perhaps this will help them to cope with inevitible future heartaches.