By EK Wills
There was a death in the family this week: my 10 year old son’s hermit crab.
It lasted only a few months so, to us, this is not a big deal. But, to him, it was his first ‘very own’ pet to look after. It was not our first pet death (remember our chickens from last summer?) but it was his big event.
He wondered whether he had done something wrong. Had he not fed it enough? Or kept the tank wet or warm enough? There were two of them and only one died. Why was it the one that didn’t survive?
It was the smaller of the crabs, did this mean that it wasn’t strong enough? Or was unwell?
The worst part was when we weren’t even sure if he had died? After all, hermit crabs hide every time you come close to them so how can you monitor their health?
We sniffed the shell (as well as the live one to compare) in order to work out that he was pretty safely no longer alive. The legs lacked tone to the touch so we were even more convinced of our diagnosis at that stage.
I delivered the final blow by accidentally dropping the lid near the shell and a leg came off. That was the conclusive evidence.
It gave us a lot to talk about and to process.
For a ten year old who is starting to learn about emotions it presented a challenge. What does it mean to be a man in this time of shifting sands: whether to be expressive or stoic, open or reserved. Can I be sad and cry, then be given comfort or told to ‘man up’?
Often these things come up without intent from friends, other family members or the media. So, to be presented with this situation, gave us the opportunity to provide the response we would like him to experience and learn from.
In the end, we worked out that the sides of the food bowl that had come with the kit were probably too high for the little guy to climb and so it was an avoidable demise. While shocking and distressing, this too provided learning.
We talked about the responsibility of caring for another life and that you do the best you can with the knowledge you have; much like parenting. There is no way you can know everything and mistakes can be made. I pointed out that I had once caused the demise of our fish when we let off flea bombs for the cat and did not cover the fish tank first.
So even grown-ups make big boo-boos.
To further process the feelings of loss, we organized a service for Hercules (the hermit crab). We made a cross from paddle-pop sticks inscribed with ‘R.I.P. Hercules 2018’ then lay him in a biodegradable box to be placed in the garden. My son managed to find solace in humour when he pointed out that Hercules would be ‘resting in pieces’ now his leg was separated from his whole.
All family members attended the burial and, although not a religious family, we said a few words about sending him to ‘the great beach beyond’.
And ultimately, what a great way to learn about life and death without the weight of more major trauma involved.
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