We bought Hammy in North Myrtle Beach. Ben saved up his money, had even checked out library books on how to take care of hermit crabs, and it was all he had talked about before our trip down to the Carolina coast. Ben picked out 2 hermit crabs--along with the purple cage, blue rocks and orange food dish--and we welcomed Hammy and Shelley into the family.
After upgrading to a 20-gallon aquarium, these hermit crabs were living pretty large. Hammy was by far the more active one, even keeping some out-of-town guests awake at night with his crawling and clawing. Ben would take him out every now and then, and I don't think I'll ever forget when I found Ben in the living room...and the empty box on the floor of his bedroom. We spent hours looking for Hammy, praying he wasn't dead, or worse--that he had crawled into Lucie's crib. Let's face it--he wouldn't have stood a chance against our little Miss Piggy.
When Hammy molted--yes, they do that and yes, it's freaky--I thought he was dead. And that was my dress rehearsal for what was to come. My thoughts? Do I buy a new one before Ben notices? Do I tell Ben and use this as a learning experience? UGH! Tough decisions!
A few weeks later, after a weekend in Orlando, I came home and found Hammy. *Reader discretion is advised.* He had crawled out of his shell and was shriveled up. Deader than driftwood. We decided to tell Ben the truth about his crustaceous friend...we sat him down on the couch in what felt like a very after-school-special kind of conversation. There were a few tears, and finally Ben said he wanted to see him. After crying and saying he "very missed Hammy", he asked if Hammy would go to heaven in the middle of the night. I said that he was already there, but Ben was confused--what kid wouldn't be?--because Hammy was still in the aquarium.
I tell you what--nothing quite prepares you for the spiritual, after-life conversation with your 4-year old. We talked a little about someone's soul, heaven, etc. as child-friendly as we could, and then Ben asked if we could put him in a cemetery. I found a little jewelry box--NOT Tiffany blue...sorry, Hammy--and Ben asked me to put a little blanket in there, in case he got cold. We tied an orange bow around the box, and buried him in the flower bed in the backyard, complete with a homemade cross.
As we stood there, we asked Ben if he wanted to say a little prayer for Hammy.
"Sure," he said. "God is great, God is good. Let us thank Him for our food. By His hands, we all are fed. Give us, Lord, our daily bread. Amen."
Guess that one just felt right to him.
Even though he was more than excited to bring home Second Hammy. The legend lives on...
