An unlikely birthday gift

The first thing that I noticed about you was your fierce little spirit. I wasn’t sure where your eyes were yet, but, with one claw pointing at me, I didn’t need to look at them to get the message: you were terrified and ready to fight.

When our orange tabby cat, Linda, left a live crayfish by the back door on the morning of my birthday, we were all very confused. Not having any unsalted bodies of water nearby, and being Sunday, my mom wondered if Linda could perhaps have kidnapped the victim from a nearby paella.

We will never solve that mystery, but in my nine year old mind, that idea was cemented as the mission impossible story of origin of the newest addition to our family, Sebastián.

Still scratching our heads and considering guests were to arrive to the party soon, we decided to stick “the crab” (as we started calling him, having no real knowledge of crustaceans) in a bidet with some water. After the party was over, I returned to the bathroom eager to properly introduce myself to my new pet; but surprisingly, the crab was nowhere to be seen. Further cementing the Mission Impossible spirit, Sebastián had somehow climbed the water plug chain and jumped off to escape captivity. Sadly for him, his skinny stick-like legs weren’t made to walk on tile, and he didn’t make it far. He was quickly discovered behind the toilet, his one claw raised defiantly once again.

Sebastián lived with us for several years, inhabiting my turtle’s old tank that they had long outgrown. During his time with us we discovered his taste for toasted shrimp and jamón, and witnessed the slow regrowth of his missing claw; first, looking funny and uneven, with a tiny claw next to the full size one; then, as a proud owner of two large, symmetric claws, which he wasn’t shy of waving daringly at you when feeling feisty (he wasn’t much of a fan of tank clean-ups, you see).

With his changing skin colors, his ability to regrow limbs, and the fascinating ritual of molting his exoskeleton, Sebastián was an all around marvelous creature. Never mind the gusto with which he ate jamón, and his ability to recognize us, his humans, only jumping off his sunbathing oasis to hide in his greek amphora whenever a stranger entered the room.

I am very sorry to tell you that this is not a story with a happy ending. I was away for college when my mom phoned me to deliver the terrible news.

Someone had left the bathroom door open. Gordon, Linda’s orange brother, had discovered Sebastián and had taken him out for one last ride.

‘Ley de vida,' my dad would later say, shoulders shrugged. Forever pragmatic.