About 10 minutes after posting that story, I heard some scratching sounds coming from my fireplace. I moved the laundry basket that was in front of it, and lo and behold, there was my crawdad! Alive, no less! Scratching and trying to climb his way up over a wrapping paper tube. When he couldn't quite make it, he fell over backwards, with his legs and claws in the air. As freaked out as I was (definitely a go-get-the-big-strong-man-of-the-house moment), I felt sympathy toward the little guy too. I went and got my fishnet and a bowl. I scooped him up with the net, and carried him over the bowl to the kitchen sink, where I filled the bowl halfway with water and rinsed him off before putting him back in the tank (covered with dirt and soot and ash). So now he's back in the tank, but not really moving. I think I killed him when I rinsed him off. There's chlorine in the water, see. I wouldn't think that five seconds would do that much, but apparently I'm wrong.
So my day was bad when I thought there was a dead (or possibly though unlikely still alive) crawdad somewhere in a good hiding spot in my house, and now it's even worse because I found him -- alive -- but now I think he's dead. And I killed him. I just am really having a crappy day.
1 comment:
Crazy story and poor crawdad. Sorry Julie was having an off day. On days like that just put on some good music and try to bake something that smells really good. Then maybe you wont care that there is a screaming baby in the background. I'm glad to hear the crawdad survived and the flowers do look nice. Hey, and at least you're sleeping more, right?
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