Two years ago we were down by the river and came across a load of cray fish. They were only small little things about 2 or 3 inches long. Harmless as they were with their tiny little pincer claws, I still couldn't carry them without dropping them when they wriggled. Amazingly about four made it home with us and we put them in a tank. Now, I don't know a great deal about crayfish but it seems when they go into shock they shed. I would have bet money that the poor little bugger was dead when I saw him all upside down in the corner and not moving. In fact I think I did have some kind of $10 wager with Don that Reggie had bit the big one but he hadn't, another valuable lesson learnt. indeed two....don't bet against Don cos you will lose and crayfish shed their shells.
In the summer that year Don went to a funeral and I had to stay here what with jobligations and all that. About 3am I woke up to a strange scratching sound. Now I have had mice problems here already so I thought that's what it was*. Unable to sleep and desperate to see the little sons of bitches I quietly grabbed my phone, turned on the light and shone it across the floor. Nothing. Aware of the fact that I probably couldn't see anything as I didn't have my glasses/contact lenses in and am practically blind I thought I better do some inspecting. So I walked to the bathroom, found my glasses and had a look around. Nothing. I turned of the lights and walked back to bed annoyed again that I still hadn't actually seen one of these mice that had been leaving little mouse gifts for me six months earlier. Like the crack detective that I am I shone my phone light across the floor in front of me hoping to catch the reflection in their beady little eyes. Just as I was about to put my foot down through the bedroom doorway I saw something move, turned on the lights and there was bloody Reggie walking backwards and forwards by my bedroom door like he was on sentry duty. The floor is this made out of this well old rock hard lino stuff and his claws made a right noise. Lucky for him(and me) I didn't step on him when I first got up, wouldn't have felt too nice underfoot. I scooped him up in a margarine tub and put him back in his tank, covering it with wood ,tea towels and anything else I could find.
From then on in there was a lid on the tank.
Reggie lead a quiet life since then, sitting in the corner of his tank flailing his arms around like a little raver. On Sunday we had some fresh oysters from Saskatoon. It seemed like a good idea at the time to put some of the empty shells in the fish tank. There was just a little bit of oyster still stuck to them and I thought it might make a nice treat as well as adding a nice aesthetic touch to the tank's floor. The Monday after he was dead, the crayfish was no more. He had ceased to be. He'd expired and gone to meet its maker. This was a late crayfish. He's a stiff. Bereft of life, he rests in peace. Well, I think he rests in the garbage bag in the kitchen. I really must take it outside just in case he goes all Lazarus on me and comes out for a bit more midnight sentry duty.
* I realise I sound quite brave and dismissive while talking about these mice and how I want to see them. This is pure bravado, I would indeed scream like a little girl if I saw one of them. As long as they keep out of my way and don't eat anymore clothes or furniture then I am happy to co-exist with them. OK, not happy, just facing facts, I have put all kinds of traps down and I cant catch the little blighters. No, that's a lie. I did catch one after four months on a trap without bait on it would you believe. Not as smart as some would have you believe.
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