|
And people think goldfish are easy to care for? If you're searching for the perfect pet, look no further than the almighty hermit crab -- a land crustacean that won't take up more than a few minutes a week to keep fed and clean, providing endless entertainment and wacky crab action along the way. The creatures, usually on sale in pet stores and boardwalk shops crammed into mesh cages, seem to have garnered a bad rap for being "boring." Not true -- they've just gotten used to hiding since they've dealt with the prying fingers of tormenting six-year-olds for all of their captive life. Once you get the things home and settled, you'll be surprised at what they're actually capable of. If not, there's still a small bonus found in the right to tell people that you own a "pet crab."
Championed for their "molting" abilities and their cute widdle tinnnnny claws, hermit crabs come in a variety of sizes -- some aren't much bigger than an inch, others can grow as large as a softball. They're not the cleverest corner of the Animal Kingdom, but hermit crabs show a surprising amount of personality -- no two act exactly alike. Their nocturnal nature gives them a false reputation for not doing much, but night owls will witness everything from "shell fights" to wall crawls, and if you're really lucky, you might even see the crabs eat a fully formed and just-shed exoskeleton to cash in on its calcium supply! That's right -- they're the crabs that eat themselves. And sometimes each other! How can you go wrong? Today's article presents a closer view at this often-overlooked gem of Petland, with facts, figures, and a firsthand look...
Yup, I done did it. On a whim, and really, it was a whim, we picked up two of the beasts last night. I only wanted one, but in the fifteen minutes we spent debating which idiot crab to buy, it became clear that they responded to each other pretty well. Part of me just didn't want my crab to be alone, but admittedly, a bigger part held out hope that they'd become engrossed in to-the-death games of war and survival. Look closely at the picture above -- notice the crab claws peering out the box hole? HOW CUTE IS THAT, FOLKS? CUTE CRABS! Actually, it's better as a demonstration that they actually do move, for the hundreds of you who've gone through life assuming that the things just sit perfectly still in their shells till the reaper comes a'reapin.
I haven't owned a hermit crab in years, so the experience feels new and minty. They're seriously a lot more fun than I remember, though one could probably attribute that to what some sick fuck painted all over their happy shells...
Article continued below advertisement:
Visit our sponsors to support the site!
Yes, I'm now the proud owner of two unofficial "Spongebob Squarepants" hermit crabs. Since the crabs spend their lives swapping out shells to accommodate their ever-growing sizes, you're free to "doll up" their future homes in any way you see fit. Spongebob's nothing -- I've seen hermit crabs in glitter-covered super-shells complete with glued-on surfer dude figurines riding on top. They're the only pet in the world that you can match up to your home's color scheme, no matter how many times it changes. Just another coup in a land of hermitty coups. These were considered "medium" crabs, costing five bucks a pop. The smaller ones rarely go for more than two bucks, and even the big monsters still cost less than hamsters -- or at least the hamsters given "Russian" monikers to justify the fact that they cost more than the "plain" ones. They're cheap, that's what I'm trying to say.
I'd recommend skipping the smalls and mediums -- go right for the large ones. The crabs are full of antennae thingies, legs, red bumps and all sorts of shit, and obviously, these features become more pronounced on the bigger crabs. The jumbos are a whole lot scarier too, and let's face it, nobody buys a crab without some grand prank plot dog-paddling somewhere in the back of their mind. Since I'm giving these to one of my nephews, (cats with crabs mixes worse than girlfriends with crabs) I skipped on the pricier super-sized crabs. You? Size matters for you.
One of the reasons hermit crabs are so often thought to be virtually immobile is the exceedingly tiny cages people buy for 'em -- if you stick the crab in a 5" plastic box, of course it's not going to do anything. Try finding activities in a 5" plastic box sometime; you'll understand the crabs' plight. As a minor catch, I'd suggest picking up one of the larger "kits." You won't have to go through that gut wrenching "gravel color" choosing process, and your crunchy pals will have more space to work their crustaceous magic.
Mine cost fifteen bucks, and included everything from the tank down to the water sponge. Oh yeah -- the water sponge. Hermit crabs don't drink like most other animals -- they sort of "sip" water from a sink-soaked sponge. They even drink like cool bastards. Though you should always keep the tank clean, I'll go out on a limb and say that it's rarely needed. They're crabs themselves are clean as Lysol, and so long as you're not spilling their disgusting food all over the cage, you can spread those dreaded tank-washing afternoons real thin. I swear, there's few things in pet shops that seem cater-made for human care, but these guys totally fit the bill. Consider this: if you buy two, and one of 'em dies, you might not even have to clean out the corpse! The other crab might just eat it! It's like one of those glass, egg-shaped ecospheres, just without the brine shrimp and "Nature Company" gift tag. And with claws!
Okay, ready to see 'em? Ready to see crabs? Come on, you know you want to see crabs. You so thought you weren't going to see crabs today. But look, look! Crabs!
Merriam-Webster defines "hermit crab" as "any of numerous chiefly marine decapod crustaceans (especially families Diogenidae, Paguridae, and Parapaguridae) having soft asymmetrical abdomens and occupying the empty shells of gastropods." Matt defines "hermit crab" as "spooky scary creepy red thing; finger biter." When you're handling the crabs, they'll usually remain firmly tucked and hidden in their shells. Still, on occasion, they'll reveal 70% of their body in a brilliant display of rotating claw movements just to remind you that they could eat your face if they were just a little bit bigger.
The crabs have two pinchers -- one larger than the other, usually in a deep purple hue. While the pinchers are absolutely necessary for the crab to keep on living in the wild, your cage offers no such predators. Hermit crabs are known to "drop their legs," literally, either when they've become injured or stressed. Furthermore, if a hunter snatches one of the crab's legs, it can drop it and run off to count its losses. As they say, it's better to lose a leg than a head. I seem to recall the whole leg dropping bit becoming a little more erratic when my old crabs hit their twilight years -- even when there weren't other crabs to pick 'em apart, I've had a few dying creatures seem to drop their legs off just for the Hell of it. Hey, if you know you're dying, why not? Nobody else is gonna spread the crabs' ashes for 'em, might as well get it over with while they still can.
One of the most amazing things about these guys is their differences in demeanor. The yellow one, "King Poseidon, The Super Ultra Crab," is about as lively a crab as you'll ever find. Even as I was grabbing him out of the box after an alarmingly bumpy ride home, the thing was still frolicking with half of its body out and dancing around. You can't stop the guy -- wherever you put him, he immediately squirms his legs to the floor and nails a sidestep version of the Charleston better than any old timer in a styrofoam hat ever has. While King Poseidon The Super Ultra Crab remained impressively active, the same couldn't be said for his cellmate, "Jim."
Now Jim...Jim's a little bit troubled. Or maybe just shy. When I say that hermit crabs have specific personalities, I'm just sugarcoating the more direct point that there's "good ones" and "bad ones." Good ones, like King Poseidon The Super Ultra Crab, are social beasts who do all sorts of neat tricks, constantly on the move. Bad ones, like Jim, do absolute jack shit. I'm not sure what terrible tragedies went down in this guy's past, but it's seriously screwed him up. In the past day or so, Jim's shifted a total of two inches -- and that's only because I moved the cage and accidentally shook all the contents. What could I do to ease Jim outta that shell? Pull him? Nope -- I used to try that as a kid, and all you're rewarded with is a sharp pinch or a bunch of disembodied crab legs. Hermit crabs can and usually will get used to you, but not if you're trying to shake hands with 'em and shit. As a general rule, animals that come equipped with body parts capable of pinching anything that comes near them usually prefer not to be touched.
All of the manuals and guidebooks insist that it just takes time. I disagree -- Jim isn't just acting the part of an introvert, he's obviously got issues that need special care. Knowing that I couldn't simply pull him into a position of activity, I searched for other avenues of enticement...
Hmmm, maybe he just needed an energy boost. Java Yums, the "caffeine enhanced super fruit-flavored gummy candy," seemed like a godsend at the time. As things turned out, they just made Jim gassy. The search continued.
As mentioned, hermit crabs molt, shedding their exoskeletons into piles of what looks precisely like dead crabs. It's extremely important to keep larger shells available in the tank, as they'll soon outgrow their current homes and won't be satisfied till they've fit their asses into new ones. More importantly, the new exoskeleton will take a while to harden, making this a crucial time in the crab's life. There's no soft-shell hermit crab -- they're far more susceptible to injury during this "healing" period. In my case, there's another big reason to keep empty shells on hand. King Poseidon could grow antsy and beat the crap out of Jim in an effort to claim his shell. Crabs are pretty fucked up like that.
King Poseidon immediately took to his new home, digging through the gravel while exploring from corner to corner. Jim wasn't as interested, despite Poseidon's constant chatter in his direction. Yes, hermit crabs communicate by sound, "chirping" whenever something's on their minds. The larger the crab, the louder the chirp. Scavengers by nature, they'll rarely show signs of aggression unless it's out of fear or inadvertent, as in mistaking your hand for a "stick" to latch onto. Their docile disposition is a big reason for their huge sales, so don't fret, they'll eventually recognize your scent and will probably stop trying to murder you. Fraidy cats needn't worry about being bitten -- hermit crabs can't bite, and their large pincher is virtually their only shot at causing you pain. The smaller one is just for gathering food and for makeshift drumbeat sounds.
While King Poseidon continued to claim his territory, I prepared a little special something for poor ol' Jim. I wanted to be a good host, and I'm certainly not a big proponent of owning crabs who seem to go into epileptic fear fits at the first sight of me. If caffeine enhanced gummies didn't motivate him, the problems are rooted in something a lot tougher than mere lethargy. No, this crab just doesn't feel at home. Doesn't feel welcome. Feels sorta ridiculous 'cause someone painted Spongebob all over him. What could I do to let Jim know he's wanted? He's not used to our big, scary apartment and its big, scary tenants. Hmm...
Even after I organized a friggin' ticker tape parade in his honor, Jim still sucked. I guess that's another reason to buy more than one hermit crab -- provides a better chance that you'll own one that doesn't suck. I suppose I can't really fault him for being shy, what with all the instances of affixing him to plastic fishmobiles and all, but c'mon -- I gotta draw the line somewhere. From here on out, no more special treatment for Jim. Why am I wasting all of these amenities on the crab who won't do shit? At least King Poseidon might reward my efforts with more subversive crab dancing. Screw Jim. I'm a man of few house rules, but when it comes to crabs, it's dance or die. Dance or die, and the flash rule always applies in rounds of "Asshole." Two house rules -- that's fair, right?
Feeding time, woo hoo ooh hoo. The charming wooden pineapple bowl contains substances from a canister of stuff known only as "Land Hermit Crab Food." You know, if dogs are allowed to have all sorts of fun food names, shouldn't crabs be afforded the same graces? It's mostly corn, meat and bone meal, mixed with a bit of zinc oxide -- because if there's one thing crabs love, it's zinc oxide. All in all, the food looks like a "horse shit" dollhouse accessory. Don't panic, you're allowed to feed the things treats, too.
Indeed, you can feed these guys all kinds of stuff. Lettuce, peanut butter, apples, you name it. Hell, you know those coconuts you always buy at the supermarket, just because they're there and not because you have any intention of eating them? Hermit crabs will even chow down on those! Don't replicate my serving arrangement -- it's much better to fill a regular seashell with the food. They won't need to climb to find it, and the food might pick up some much needed extra calcium from the shell, too. Zinc oxide is great, but sprinkle a little calcium on there and you'll have some painfully happy crabs.
There's the brothers enjoying their new villa. Note that the kit's included sponge is completely inappropriate as a crab water reservoir. I'll have to pick a new one up, so place your bets now as to whether or not I'll actually do that before they die. Vegas odds sheds a sinister light on yours truly. Though sluggish during the day, the boys really come alive at night, climbing all over the place as if they're really going to find something interesting amidst the 40,000 gravel grains and sopping dish sponge. I should throw some dice in there or something. Honestly, I wouldn't move around much either if the only things available to entertain myself with were gravel and dish sponges.
Everything you see cost twenty-five bucks total, and that includes the little monsters. For kids especially, the setup is much easier to clean and keep up than even the smallest of fish tanks -- it'd take a seriously concerted effort to screw this one up. Hermit crabs can live for over twenty years in the wild, though they usually won't make it past four years in captivity. Still, it's kinda tough to get all that emotionally involved with any one particular hermit crab, so when there's death in the tank, just buy some new ones! Keep crabbin' forever and ever! Here's some parting tips and factoids on the creatures -- hopefully some of 'em sound interesting enough to persuade you into becoming a full-fledged card-carrying Hermit Crab Man/Woman. Think you've got what it takes? Go for it -- a few bucks and a modicum of effort can turn you from a Man/Woman to a Hermit Crab Man/Woman. It's what it's all about.
- Regardless of your crab collection's various genders, they cannot reproduce. Hermit crabs need the ocean to father their eggs.
- The crabs should be misted regularly. It's essential for their health, but as an added bonus, it seems to give them a temporary high. Even Jim became slightly worked up after misting, and King Poseidon? Crab was practically doing laps.
- Hermit crabs would rather let you rip them in half than allow you to pull them out of their shells, so don't try it unless you're looking to section them.
- If you're feeling very generous towards your crabs, make sure the gravel or sand levels are kept high enough so that they're able to dig and burrow. Crabs just love to burrow, and it helps to protect them during the molting process.
- Hermit crabs go wild when you provide new shells -- it's essentially the same as a car lot offering free vehicles to whomever sits in 'em first. You'll rarely see the crabs entirely out of their shell, so keep a close eye out when they're making the switch.
- The more the merrier. Hermit crabs are gregarious, traveling in packs by the hundreds. Disregard that whole "hermit" thing, and buy several hundred hermit crabs every week until you die.
- If things don't work out between you and your new pet, remember, they're technically edible.
RETURN TO X-E!
|
|
|
|
