The Missing Crab
January 31st 2008 21:00
My parents liked buying live crabs from the local fish market. The crabs would come home still with protective binding around their bodies and my parents would put them in the laundry sink. There they will stay until they were ready to be cooked.
I felt sorry for the crabs. Often I would go over to the sink and watch them. Enraged, they would lift their bodies up and if their pincers were free, I’m sure I would have received several painful pinches. I can’t blame them. I would have done the same thing if I was in their position.
One time, a crab went missing. We were amazed as the walls of the laundry sink were at least a foot high so we could not see how a crab with its pincers and legs bound to its body could lift itself over the laundry sink and escape. But escape it did. My parents searched through every conceivable nook and cranny but still they couldn’t manage to locate it. My parents finally gave up.
It wasn’t until several months later when my parents were moving one of their heavy beds that they found a crab shell under the bed. The thought of it lying there dead all those months, possibly being fed on by maggots still gives me the willies to this day. Not to mention the pain it must have been in – firstly having sore muscles from being bound for days on end out of its natural habitat and then starving to death.
I felt sorry for the crabs. Often I would go over to the sink and watch them. Enraged, they would lift their bodies up and if their pincers were free, I’m sure I would have received several painful pinches. I can’t blame them. I would have done the same thing if I was in their position.
One time, a crab went missing. We were amazed as the walls of the laundry sink were at least a foot high so we could not see how a crab with its pincers and legs bound to its body could lift itself over the laundry sink and escape. But escape it did. My parents searched through every conceivable nook and cranny but still they couldn’t manage to locate it. My parents finally gave up.
It wasn’t until several months later when my parents were moving one of their heavy beds that they found a crab shell under the bed. The thought of it lying there dead all those months, possibly being fed on by maggots still gives me the willies to this day. Not to mention the pain it must have been in – firstly having sore muscles from being bound for days on end out of its natural habitat and then starving to death.
Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
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