The Other Bob

Very little attention has been given in this blog to the other member of our family. I was just cleaning out his tank yesterday and figured I'd take his picture and give him his due credit. Our crayfish came into our lives a little over a year ago when Pete's 4th grade class was studying crayfish in their science unit. They raised them from babies and studied them along the way. They also named their crayfish. Pete named his "Bob Big Butt". He said it was because he had a big tail and was one of the bigger and stronger crayfish and was not named after our own Bob. I think he was just looking for a reason to include "butt" in any situation. For the more civilized circles, we decided we would refer to him as simply Bob. When the science unit was over, they had the option to take them home if they had survived (which was about half of them). Pete, of course, signed up to take his home (without consulting me). After I was informed that we were now the proud owners of a crayfish, I told Pete that under no uncertain terms would I be taking care of him and it would be up to Pete to feed him and clean the tank. Pete agreed stating that he fed and took care of him at school without issue. When we went to the classroom to pick up the crayfish his teacher asked/ begged us to take the final remaining crayfish who did not have a home (their owners mom had the common sense to say "no") so we actually came home with two. As I was leaving Pete's teacher left me with this hope, "Don't worry, they only usually live a few weeks!".

The two crayfish never really got along and the other guy just spent his time hiding from Bob who really was quite big and strong. Before long it was apparent that time was short for "the other guy" (he never did get a name). One morning (about a week after we took him home) he was found lifeless and stuck to the filtration tube of the tank. So far, so good. One down, one to go. However, Bob had the digs to himself and seemed to flourish. He grew quickly and shed his exoskeleton many times. Suddenly he was no longer a little, ugly, pink crayfish but rather a big, ugly, brown crayfish. Pete became afraid to handle him to clean his tank and feed him because of his size and strength so of course I inherited Bob. I didn't want him, but there he was staring at me with his beady little eyes in my kitchen. I decided to actually read the "caring for crayfish" sheet that was sent home and start taking care of him as if he could be here a while. I learned from my babysitter in 9th grade that some of her friends in school still have their crayfish from 4th grade! I think I need to have a chat with Pete's 4th grade teacher as I think he was sent home under false pretenses.

I must say, however, crayfish are a ton more interesting than goldfish and they seem to live longer. It's absolutely fascinating to watch him eat and organize his tank. I do spend too much time feeding him peas just to watch him peel the shell off, store them and then eat them. Bobby now accuses me of preferring this Bob to him. It's mostly not true. =)