An out-of-the-ordinary motion nagged at the edges of my consciousness, forcing me to turn my head and take a step towards the disruption. As a cloud of sand settled, I saw it. A tiny little hermit crab had tumbled from its perch high atop the rocks and was stuck on its back in the middle of the sandy aquarium bottom.
The little crab poked its legs out of its shell and reached to the right. Finding nothing, it quickly rushed back into its shell. Moments later, it poked its legs out of its shell and reached to the left. The results were the same -- it found nothing.
It was stuck squarely on its backside.
Belly, the Maroon Clownfish that is insistent that she will die alone, began to hover. She's the same fish that has driven many others to suicide, but only in the instances when she has failed to murder her tank neighbors. She tolerates crabs, but only barely. As she darted to and fro looking for an opportunity to strike, the crab stayed hidden in its shell. Word clearly has gotten around the neighborhood that she can't be trusted.
I briefly considered helping the crab, but thought better of it. Instead, I settled in to watch the show. The crab cautiously tried leaning to the left, and then the right, and then the left again, over and over, again and again. Each and every time it was met with failure as it stayed there on the bottom of the faux-ocean floor stuck squarely on its back. It tried and it tried and it tried, but it just couldn't find a way to rock itself free of that rut.
Just as I began to reach for the net so that I could flip the crab over, another crab began barreling across the sand. I'm not sure if the little things can see or not, but I suspect not. They tend to barge seemingly blindly around, crashing into things and shoving things out of their way all of the time.
As that crab barreled across the sand, it sensed that it was near something foreign and slowed down, and then came to a complete stop. It stood perfectly still for just a moment, and then gently reached forward and carefully pushed the upside-down crab just a little. That little nudge created just enough momentum for the stuck crab to free itself. It quickly flipped over and took off in the opposite direction, seemingly forgetting all about the conundrum of moments before.
I'm going to spend the rest of the week looking for people who just need a little nudge. Thanks for the idea, crabs.