Posts Tagged ‘creature’

The Post – Hey Baby! …. A Tribute to Admiral Byrd.

January 2, 2011

Hey Baby! He was always there – strong, intrepid, fearless, hopeful.  He never stopped waving his claw even when he was the only crab left. We’d come back from being out and would peer into the house from the garage door and we could see him – standing on his tank rock, the dark kitchen lit only by the light of his tank, all alone in the house, tank, world, and still, he was waving.

Fiddler crabs wave their claws to catch the attention of passing females in the hopes the female will choose the home they have made, instead of some other male’s nest. They also wave them to warn other males to stay away.

Admiral Byrd was the uncontested master of his world – the 10 gallon tank in our kitchen. He was one of three fiddler crabs we bought over two years ago. In that time he outlived Peter Lorre, Rhett Butler, Scarlett O’Hara, Melanie Hamilton, the Three Muses and a couple other males who didn’t live long enough to be named. He was the only one of them who was ALWAYS out exploring his tank – the females rarely emerged from the inside of their rock and the other males just sat in their rocks. He was always marching about the tank, even when he was brand new and he had no idea if this aquarium place was a deathtrap or a blessing. Admiral Byrd was the first, the best, and eventually, the only. There was only one Admiral Byrd and he lives on in our heart.

I buried him outside, just as I’ve done with the dogs, gerbils, hamsters, and rat. Because he was such a special creature in spite of being our smallest pet, I buried him in my meditation corner, right next to my statues of Buddha and Mary. (They’re a story for another day).

Now, to commemorate what a tremendous spirit he had in spite of being such a small creature, I honor him with this image of him in classic Admiral Byrd pose – out and waving. He is the logo picture for my Cafe Press store, and I have a whole line of products – mugs, T-shirts, note cards. I even have a case for my iPhone 4 that carries his picture. The “Hey Baby!” quote captures his unbreakable and commanding spirit. Humans could take a lesson from his never giving up.

So with Hey Baby!  on my storefront to remind me never to give up, I can always keep his spirit in me as I work my online store. And as I sip tea in a Hey Baby! coffee mug, I can still have Admiral Byrd with me in spirit, waving at me from the cup.  But most of all, he will live on in our hearts forever. 🙂

PS  If you would like to read the history of all the fiddlers, their antics, pregnancies, lives and deaths, just click here, or on the right sidebar page titled: And What’s the Deal With All the Fiddler Crab Stuff

Advertisements

The Post – Caring, is catchy

January 30, 2008

Probably the most interesting thing in the fiddler crab experiment is my family’s reaction to them. My son came home from college at Christmas and initially looked at me like I was crazy because I talked so much about the crabs. In fact, my independent college student complained I was paying more attention to the fiddler crabs. He kept laughing at me as I talked to the crustaceans in that high-pitched mommy voice previously reserved for my toddler son and pet poodles. My husband just kept teasing me about the total amount we were up to on fiddler crab expenditures.

Within of day of being home, my son started watching them, and within a few days he was keeping track of who was doing what and telling me to check on Melanie Hamilton or Rhett Butler. In fact, I think he was the one who first noticed that Rhett Butler was dead.

My husband was the one who spotted Scarlett O’Hara molting and eagerly called me over to see her when I came in from grocery shopping. Last night, he came in from work and before he even said hello to me he stopped, peered in the tank and said with great concern, “There’s something wrong with Admiral Byrd! I think he’s dead!” As it turned out (after I poked Admiral Byrd with my latest acquisition, a 25 cc plastic pipette and bulb from Science Safari that I use to siphon out excess food), I think Admiral Byrd was just sleeping – they kind of hang there, their claws floating above their heads, and don’t react to much. But my husband walked away and said very seriously, “I think you’d better keep an eye on him.”

What I realized is that caring, like a cold, is an occupational hazard of sharing space. When you share space, even with a creature who has a brain the size of a pinpoint, it starts to get personal. When it’s personal, you start to care, even when you didn’t mean to.

I think the same thing happens with people. So often you hear people say, “I don’t like this group or that.” Then they meet someone from that group and find out they really are okay . . . maybe even . . . nice. It’s hard to share space – sit across the table from someone, hear their humanness, see it in their eyes – and not care. That’s the real risk factor I suspect . . . contact . . . sharing space. The minute you share the space, you start to see the real person. Once that happens, it’s personal. And once it’s personal, you’re done for because caring is catchy.