Fluffhead died yesterday.
Kyra took it well, she cried a little and then enjoyed the novelty of walking on the cow dung in the back yard to a place we could bury him. I miss him: he was an entertaining little crab. I remember the night I bought him (to replace another dead crab). When the guy at petsmart picked him fluff head pinched him, then came out of his shell to escape. He finally got him in the box by scooping him up. All the way home I could hear him scraping around the box. When we finally got him home he wouldn’t let go of the box and we had to tear it apart to get him to let go and go into his new home.
Kyra is taking it well, but it’s making me really sad. Everytime we take a long car trip kyra wants us to tell stories about fluffhead, delicate accessory, shelly and pinch me. That’s three of her crabs now that have died and the stories are going to start getting macabre.
Sometimes at quiet time we could hear kyra talking to fluffhead in her room, and sometimes when she’d sit there and watch him he’d scuttle up to the glass and it looked like he was trying to talk to her too.
soundtrack. She knows a few of the songs well enough to sing them out loud and she does sometimes when she’s doing something (much like her father she sings to herself a lot).
