Spent most of the day trying to brainstorm a better way to do things and then implementing it. Went to the store, bought some things, came home, got crafty, got super sweaty and nervous trying to make the changes, but I’m feeling like I’ve got a pretty good transition tank set up now, positioned inside the 55 gallon tank. Good for them, but also good for me. The crabs will have to do a little more work to get to land, but with my holiday company arriving on Monday I really needed something that could go longer between water changes and feedings. So I have a much bigger volume of water, 1 1/2 gallons in a plastic bin, and a long reptile ramp. Decided it was time for a head count (or…thorax count) and I moved 187 megalopa in there!! Whew! (That’s 1,870 legs! 😂) And that doesn’t even count the newer megalopa that I decided to leave in the left-hand kreisel overnight in case there turns out to be some unexpected problem with the new transition tank that I didn’t foresee. These guys always show me new ways that I’m not meeting or anticipating their needs.
They are SO hard to catch now. Good grief. Those loop-de-loops, handstands, and super-gripping legs are really cute until you have to catch and move them. You have to sneak up on them from their tails, or they throw their legs wide and grab the rim of the siphon opening and then there is no budging them. Some will also play dead, like adult hermits, not moving and curling up their legs on the bottom, even if you puff them with water. But if you gently touch them, they shoot away and swim their crazy loops and then you have to chase them down. Some grab onto anything they can—other dead megalopa, food, dirt, shells, the roughened edge of my plastic pitcher. They are stubborn and frustrating, but fortunately for them I am more stubborn and more persistent and I insist on saving them anyway, the twerps. Many had already climbed out of the water, onto the sand ramp of the mini paint trays, and since they were dry I couldn’t siphon them up, so I carefully moved those with a toothpick. Little, minuscule glass-legged critters. Takes a gentle but steady hand, I can tell you that. It’s nerve wracking. Sometimes they’ll grab onto the toothpick themselves but usually I have to find a way to gently lift them without hurting them. They are both sturdier and more fragile than you think—if that makes any sense. Maybe you can imagine what I mean.
Anyway, many are still swimming today. Thank goodness. ❤️