Neighbor’s kitten, Jasper, is rapidly turning into...

Neighbor’s kitten, Jasper, is rapidly turning into a fierce Tico gato. He is pictured above moonlighting as an adorable, snuggly guy; in actuality, he is a little punk. He terrorizes Marley, climbing into the canine’s food bowl and munching away bravely, as his snarling observer’s attack-mohawk grows. He interrupts Luna and Barro mid-wrestle, swatting at their tails and their snouts, evidently unaware that they are, collectively, 25 times his size. In his adolescence he has put a dent in the local lizard population, developed and pursued a charming crush on Clover (who does not return the sentiment), and acquired the nastiest habit of clinging with needle sharp teeth and talons to the Achilles Tendon of any unfortunate passerby (hence his presence on our kitchen table despite his layer of unidentifiable jungle grime).

One rainy, yet sunny, morning, we all lounged peacefully, the humans enjoying a cup of coffee, all species listening to the trickle of fresh droplets mingling with the sea, Japser attacking the softly clicking camera lens…when suddenly, we were interrupted by a strange noise coming from the alcove where Jon stores his guitar (this alcove is also where Marley hides from the thunderstorms). The instrument was abandoned atop its case, and Jon bravely used a toe to shift the case towards Marley’s blanket in order to determine the cause of the clatter. Immediately, four large Tajalines (colorful crabs) sprang into action, scurrying haphazardly in every direction, even attempting to climb the walls. Jon quickly grabbed the broom and swept them out of the kitchen and into the sand where they speedily buried themselves. We returned to our beverages and to our musing, but it was only moments before the noise started up again. Jon repeated his mode of attack, pushing the case further towards the blanket, but no crabs escaped this time. He investigated further, sliding both case and guitar out of the alcove and onto the kitchen floor, but still, no crabs. We shook Marley’s blanket and poked around behind the nearby refrigerator…no crabs.

Finally, we were forced to come to the conclusion that the crab must be in the guitar. Jon grabbed the neck, picked it up, and peered inside, laughing as a tiny, yet tough, Tajaline peered back at him, pincers up and open, ready to fight for his territory. Knowing it is a crab’s main duty in life to decompose matter, and that it was only a matter of time before it started eating through the shiny wood and the brass strings (and also that there was no way to get Jon’s guitar back through customs with a crab living in it), we agreed we had to get him out, and we (well, Jon, I mostly laughed and snapped photos) tried a myriad of techniques…

Poking him with a large, serrated, bread knife…

Good ol’ gravity…

and of course, just plain pleading…

Eventually, we heard the tell tale music of shell and claw falling through strings and both Jon and Tajaline stood abruptly, weapons aloft, ready to fight…

Of course, Jon surrendered immediately, but the crab, recently jousted from the safety of his home, now found himself surrounded by cats and dogs, noses and ears twitching with excitement. He stood bravely, ready to take on the challenge, and as we shooed the other mammals away, the crab seemed to swell, impressed with himself for his incredible victory.