As much as it pains me, we had to make the decision. The fuzzy barnacle rock was no longer so fuzzy, and this morning I caught Bob scraping more baby barnacles off another rock.
Then there were the pits and piles all over the sand bottom, coral bits mixed with the native sand. Incontrovertible evidence of Bob's nocturnal processing.
Bad Bob. Bad, bad Bob.
I mean, I get it. He's a large hermit crab. He needs to eat, and he needs to filter. Who am I to stop him from doing all those hermit crab things he does?
But he's just too big for this Aquarium. He needs a larger playground. So I picked him up, stowed him away in my carrying mug and drove him to the beach. Andres and I walked out some way into the sea, put him gently down onto the soft sandy seabottom and waved goodbye as he scuttered off into the open ocean.
He seemed really happy. I know how he feels. Being at a resort is great, but only for so long. There's nothing like the freedom of the wild.
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