I am weak.
I have no problem admitting that when it comes to animals, I am a weakling and seem to lose all willpower when confronted with a critter who needs help. (Just ask the spider who has been living undisturbed on the nylon scourer in my kitchen sink.) After having such a hard time dealing with the loss of Bikini, I made the mistake of going to a local, independent pet store and I came home with their last three hermit crabs. I hate that I still feel guilty for not being able to buy a wonderful chipmunk that was also for sale. However, he costs $150 and, being nocturnal, would probably have a similar schedule to the sugar gliders. I can't bring another pet into the house knowing that it would take my time and attention away from the gliders.
Back to the new crabs. They are the last hermit crabs I can buy without absolutely requiring a move to a 50+ gallon tank. I'm already over my limit with 19 crabs in a 29 gallon aquarium, but they all get along well together as a colony and there have been no interrupted molts or fights over resources. I've kicked up my search for a 50-75 gallon tank by posting on Freecycle and searching any other free listings I can find, but I haven't had any luck yet.
Following my semi-tradition of naming the purple pincher hermit crabs after the Caribbean Islands where they could have been harvested from, the new guys are named after the ABC islands.
First up is Aruba. He is a very, very big boy but as gentle as a lamb. I can handle him without any fear. He was wearing a horrible, small, pink patriotic shell that was at least better than the abusive shell the clerk said he was wearing when he arrived at their store, a shell with a plastic football helmet glued to it.

Next up is Bonaire, who I call Bonny. Unlike the other two, he didn't dig underground to de-stress after I brought him home. He's very active and loves to eat, socialize, and hang out next to the side-mounted heater. I love it when I take pictures of the hermit crabs where you can pick out the twisted, ropey details of their antennae. (Click the pic to enlarge.) How can something so tiny be so perfect?

Last is Curacao, better known as Cookie (because my Midwestern tongue has a hard time properly wrapping itself around koo-ruh-sou). He's the least social, but he'll probably feel at home in the pack of small purple pinchers already running around the tank. I love this picture of Cookie because he is kicking up his left shield leg as if to say, "I've got to get a move on, lady. Are you done taking my picture yet?"