Dreaming of Silver Roses

            We have never been normal pet owners. My husband is a biologist. Life fascinates him! So that being said we have as a family been exposed to various forms that were, ahem, “life… but not as we know it.” (I just love mock Spock.).  We have owned NUMEROUS hamsters thanks to a nice lady in Shreveport, La. who donated two to Diallo and swore they were the same sex. Let me just say we ended up going from a 20 gallon aquarium tank to a converted old fashioned jewelry display counter to house the prolific little critters who apparently were able to bud and reproduce asexually!Now I cut the pet store who sold them to her some credit because I promise I had no desire to sex the quadrillion we spawned either. We also acquired a four foot iguana named “Iggy” from that same ‘nice’ lady.She was very generous to my nature boy. Iggy is a fabulous story in its own right which I will save for another blog.Then we owned a tank of fresh water shrimp, various turtles of both the land and water variety, and many, MANY, fresh water fish- some purchased from pet stores, some as experiments marine biologist’s passion for studying native Texas fresh water fish. The kids got a crash course through the fish study in cannibalism. Not such a good moment at Stogner manor.

Catfish no matter what type are brutal creatures and David Baird’s does the world a favor – FRY ‘EM! We have owned various dogs of various breeds- I have often reflected on our Dachshunds.  I personally believe they are the closest cousins to felines that you can get in the canine kingdom. Diallo and I owned a cat when we were first engaged – Miss Chief – you got it ‘mischief’- until we realized I was allergic to my great sorrow. Thanks to my children we have keep various bugs (THEY ARE NOISEY; DON’T CARE WHAT KIND!!!!) and small lizards and birds. We raised tadpoles to beautifully singing frogs- I am grateful that my family can be motivated to share in the capture and release program when it is wise.                      Right now for a little more than a year we have ventured into life sciences branch of  hermit crab care. (Which believe it or not is the real reason I began this blog! “Ah, she does have a point!”) Crustaceans are food where I come from, not pets, however my eco specialist and small fry seem to believe they deserve study and have been inducted into our clan. I will confess again I didn’t feel the urge to become too terribly attached to these alien life forms when first convinced (‘Convince’ as defined by three out of four Stogners = ramrod-ed!) to provided habitation for them. I will say now that they are fascinating. They ask little of their caregivers and are very entertaining. The whole pinching when provoked is not so hot, but if you learn how to properly and gently care for them they are endearing, which I swear to you goes so against every fiber of my nearly Cajun roots!             Right now the larger of the two, which my daughter named “Sparkle” (Hey, it had a bedazzled shell when it was given to her otherwise, yes, it would be a truly odd nomenclature. Diallo had suggested ‘Jewel’, but I said that it couldn’t sing so why bother. … It’s okay you don’t have to laugh. Diallo didn’t get it either.).              I awoke this morning and ‘Sparkle’ was looking kind of ashy. Normally it is a beautiful brick red so I knew something was out of the norm – you know you live with a scientist for a few years and you’ll get that kind of powerful gift of observation too! The poor dear seemed to be a bit swollen, and breathing rather labored. It was hanging half in and half out of the shell. Since in our genius we allowed the tank to be housed in Mat’s room I felt the need to rush Diallo back into appropriate attire and partially masked in shaving gel into Mat’s room a.s.a.p. in case he needed to pronounce post mortem decrees and perform last rites blessings. I was almost thrilled to learn of an area of life sciences where we are neck and neck in knowledge. All my Jimmy Neutron could say was, “That doesn’t look good does it?” Really?  You think??? Then he went back to the shower frustrated that I was a tad sarcastic. I went to do research. What if it were some plague that could infest the whole house?  What if hermit crabs are the miner’s canaries of the oceanic world?             After a few moments of research, I learned that ‘Sparkle’ is actually most likely in a metamorphosis process called molting which is quite revolting … but harmless to others. (But you knew that didn’t you!) They suck in tons of water and do in fact swell up to POP free of the old exoskeleton. For a few while they are in a very fragile and life threatening state. If ‘Sparkle’ were anywhere but this faux Croc Hunter’s reservation for the odd members of the animal kingdom it could be a far more trying experience. In the ‘wild,’ Sparkle would have to leave its shell exposing itself to all manner of dangers to burrow  as deep as is safe for it, to shed it’s tight husk alone beneath the sand. Other creatures would love a crab dinner as much as I would, and being completely defenseless with its new soft and almost immobile pink tender skin there would be little Sparkle could do to preserve its life. Here however it is protected with limited predators – other than my children and the other tank dwelling mate it rooms with (another crab which incidentally could kill the vulnerable crab in this state). The process looks awful for the crab. I feel for it.             .             I was thinking however about some people I have known. Life hardens their hearts. They have had circumstances and relationships which have caused them to build their own protective shells. For some its make up is excessive intellect. They act as though they need no one because they know everything. For some it’s an attitude that is pincher like. They snap and brandish their claws keeping as many as possible at arms length as far out of range as possible. They remind me of the old Bugs Bunny cartoon with the hunting dog looking into the woods and then at the hunter with his gun and one of the dogs lines is “Two go in but one comes out…”. Better to strike first than be struck is their motto. Gary Smalley describes these folks as having behavior kind of like running over a spray paint can with your car. The can is filled with anger, fear, accusation, bitterness, whatever and is just lying there. You don’t see “the can” or what’s inside “the can” as you drive by, but when you accidentally hit it (because generally speaking it is always right in the middle of the path) it sprays and spews all over!  Some just keep life at a very surface level. Maybe they have been taught that they don’t have that much to offer or they just aren’t that interesting. Maybe they were hurt many times before and figure that their calloused heart is best reinforced with isolation. They know you, but forget getting in to know them better. They just don’t seem to have much to say. Hey, life is really hard. I know where the “hermit crab like” folks are coming from! Pain can appear to be one of the greatest enemies imaginable. Abuse, neglect, abandonment, misinformation, confusion, loneliness, deception, fear, anger, and just plain old accidents are lying like mines in a mine field in this life of relationships. I get it.                   The problem for Sparkle is that it has no choice. To live is to grow. To quote a movie that is out right now:Django: [showing the exterminator shop to Remy with the dead rats in the window] The world we live in belongs to the enemy, we must live carefully. We look out for our own kind, Remy. When all is said and done, we’re all we’ve got.
[Django starts to walk away]
Remy: [defiantly] No. Dad, I don’t believe it. You’re telling me that the future is – can only be – more of this?
Django: This is the way things are; you can’t change nature.
Remy: Change is nature, Dad. The part that we can influence. And it starts when we decide.
Django: [Remy turns to leave] Where are you going?
Remy: With luck, forward.    –Disney’s and Pixar’s Ratatoullie, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0382932/quotes       I have tried the hermit crab life. The most miserable part of the experience for me was trying to accept the fact that you can not grow if you want to keep your shell. Can I offer fellow shell heads an option? It is a risk. It won’t be easy. You will feel vulnerable for a time until you acclimate to the change. You will need some help from a godly community. You ready?  Here it is. “You could let God be your protection.”       But let all who take refuge in You be glad;
       let them ever sing for joy.
       Spread Your protection over them,
       that those who love Your name may rejoice in You.- Psalms 5:11             One risk I feel it only fair to warn you about is that He doesn’t insolate you from feeling. He opens the doors wide. It is part of the experience of really living. However, if you find a loving community to belong to you will find that there are those who will share with you the friendship Carolyn Arends talks about in her song, Feel Free, (from her album of the same title).
 You can fill my crosswords in with ink
Speak your mind before you think
Wear your shoes inside my house
Wear my clothes and wear me out
You can lose your head or spill your guts
I’m your friend I’m not your judge
Feel free to laugh or cry
Feel free to wonder why
Feel free to dance or grieve
You are safe when you’re with me
Feel freeYou can change your plans or change your mind
A million, billion, trillion times
Raise the roof or pound the door
Climb the walls or hit the floor
You can run with scissors if you must
But it’d be better if you justFeel free to laugh or cry
Feel free to wonder why
Feel free to dance or grieve
You are safe when you’re with me
Feel free To pray or scream or say or dream anything you want to
To tell me every secret thing about the ghosts that haunt you And you can open up your closet wide
There’s no skeleton inside
Worse than ones I call my own
Rest assured you’re not alone
And together we can face that stuff
Till at long last both of us Feel free to laugh or cry
Feel free to wonder why
Feel free to dance or grieve
You are safe when you’re with me
Feel free(C) 1997 running arends music/New Spring Publishing, a division of Brentwood Music
Publishing, Inc. (ASCAP) 

Filed under: Uncategorized on March 2nd, 2008