The Lobster Visitor in Control UI

If you spend enough time with the Control UI, a small lobster will eventually appear at the bottom of your sidebar, take a look around, and settle in for a few minutes.

That is expected. That is OpenClaw.

What you are looking at

Each session generates a unique lobster: its color, size, shape, claw proportions, accessories, and personality are randomly determined every time the page loads. Some are short and wide, others are tall and thin, and a few have claws that are comically oversized. Certain lobsters nap constantly. Others never stop moving. One particular lobster waves frequently.

Hovering over a visitor reveals its name.

When it shows up

Occasionally. That is the intention.

The lobster is a visitor, not a permanent fixture. It arrives when it chooses, lingers for a while, and then departs. Some sessions never see one at all. There is only one guaranteed appearance: when your Gateway disconnects, the lobster emerges and paces back and forth, clearly anxious, until the connection restores. If the lobster appears distressed, inspect your Gateway.

Things you can do

Hover to see its name.
Click it to greet it. It gets startled, which is impolite on your part, but it forgives quickly.
Click it repeatedly and you will discover something about lobster patience. Continue and you will learn something about lobster dignity.
Press and hold to pet it. A heart appears. Any past grievances are set aside.
Right-click it to dismiss it for the remainder of the page load. It does not take offense. It does, however, remember.
Watch it when a run finishes. Lobsters genuinely celebrate your completed work, and their reaction shows when things went well. When things went poorly, they treat that seriously too.
Move your cursor around. You are being watched. Fondly.

Turning visits off (or back on)

Settings → Appearance → Lobster visits.

This toggle is stored locally in your browser and functions exactly as described. Off means never, including the anxious disconnect pacing. Your Gateway status indicator continues working regardless; the lobster was never your only source of information, just the most empathetic one.

Users with reduced-motion preferences automatically receive calm, stationary lobsters.

Next to that toggle is Lobster sounds, which is disabled by default and stays that way until you enable it. Turning it on makes the lobster emit a very quiet sound when touched. It is a small sound. It is a pleasant sound.

The Lobsterdex

Beside the visits toggle lives the Lobsterdex: one outline for every known coloration, filling in with color as each type visits you for the first time. It exists entirely within your browser. Nothing is recorded, nothing is synchronized, nothing is gamified. It is simply a collection.

Most slots fill in naturally over time. A few will take much longer. One of them glows.

Hovering over a filled slot tells you who visited first, and when. The Lobsterdex never forgets a first encounter, which is more than most of us can claim.

Field notes

Collected notes from people who spend too much time watching their sidebar:

Lobsters also visit the dream scene, the Memory tab on the Agents page, where they appear asleep. Observers note the sleeping lobster looks strangely familiar.
Night-shift users report their visitors yawn frequently after 10pm.
Lobsters have been observed molting. Witnesses describe the experience as "a lot" and the lobster afterward as "noticeably larger."
Some visitors do not arrive alone.
Around certain times of the year, lobsters have been seen wearing accessories.
There is one day each year when every lobster looks like it stepped out of an old logo. Nobody will tell you which day.
Not every lobster that crosses your sidebar belongs to you. Most of them do not even stop.
At least one recorded visitor was not a lobster. It insists that it is.
People who have used the same browser for a long time report their lobster arrives sooner, stays longer, and waves at them. People who dismiss lobsters frequently describe a certain distance.
After a Gateway upgrade, pay attention to what the first visitor is carrying.
The lobster in the sidebar has a relative in the terminal. It appears in the openclaw banner on days of its own choosing, and no one has successfully predicted which.
On days the relative appears, sidebar lobsters have been seen dressed in nautical attire. The two refuse to explain the connection.
During very long runs, the lobster stops playing and settles in to wait with you. Solidarity.
When something crosses the ledge, the resident stops what it is doing and watches. You would too.
After bad news, some lobsters tidy the ledge. It seems to help them.
Lobsters remember anniversaries even when you do not. If yours appears in a party hat on an unremarkable day, check the Lobsterdex for the date you met.
Devoted hosts report their lobsters acquiring titles over the years. There is no known ceremony.
The dream-scene sleeper is not entirely asleep. Press gently and see.

Privacy

Everything described on this page happens locally in your browser: the randomness, the schedule, the Lobsterdex. No lobster data leaves your machine. OpenClaw does not know which lobsters you have met, and frankly it is jealous.