Tristan brought his hermit crab, Skykee, here on the plane, and other than some sand on the aisle carpet and backed up impatient travelers, he fared well.  We got a friend crab for Lukey, whom he named, “Crabby Jack.”  Well, Lukey had a way of getting Crabby out to play with, and forgetting about him.  Several times we would look in the cage – no Crabby. We would ask Lukey, “Where’s Crabby?”  He would always respond, “I think he’s wost.”  And amazingly, a day or so later, Crabby would saunter across the living room floor, or we’d hear, “scratch, scratch” as he tried to climb the TV.  To say that Trouble is Lukey’s middle name is an understatement, so when Tristan screeched one day, “Mommy, Skykee is dead,” and I saw a little dead crab body out of his shell, I assumed the worst.  “Lukas David – did you do this?”  “I don’t know” he said with a very guilty look.  “Lukey – you’ve pulled his body out and killed him!”  I then had a moment of rationalization, and questioned Tristan, “Did you see him do it?  What did you do?”  Tristan explained that he picked up the crab, and he wasn’t moving, so he pulled on him, and his body came out of the shell.  “Well, Tristan, YOU killed him,”  I screeched.  I then had to apologize to poor Lukey who was trying to figure out what he had done.  Then out of the midst boomed the voice of reason – “ALL OF YOU JUST CALM DOWN” – it was Nathan, my husband.  “He shed!  He is alive in this shell!  He shed his exoskeleton!”  Humbled, I cheered, “He’s alive, he’s alive.”  Of course I had apologizing to do all the way around, and we have successfully lived through other sheddings, although Skykee still prefers his original shell, even after “trying on” other houses.