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Fishie Chronicles

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Since we are renting our home and furry animals “cost” more, we do not have any pets. Well, except a fish. “Fishie,” a blue beta, moved into our lives two years ago and we never got around to officially naming him. He’s simply “Fishie.”

Well, Fishie passed away a few days ago. Actually I am surprised he lasted this long…

Here’s a few reasons why:

Last November I couldn’t find my phone ANYWHERE…which isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. However, I had called it numerous times and looked for a few hours. Kevin is notorious for “hiding it” in random places…under his bed…in his train sets, under the sink…

It dawned on me…”Kevin, where’s mommy’s phone?”

“Ow, I don know mommy.” Sheepish grin.

“Kevin, where’s mommy’s phone? I know you know.”

“Fishie needed to call someone.”

OH NO. A glance into the fish tank proved Fishie indeed did "call" someone. In fact, he had been “on the phone” for hours.

There was no reviving my phone, but Fishie was fine.

Another time after dinner I realized there was…uh…something abnormal about the fish tank. As I looked closer I realized there were peas, yes peas in there. Along with some bread. And an entire banana. Sigh.

One time the entire can of fish food was dumped into the tank. I caught him (Kevin) in the act of that one and was able to yank Fishie out and rescue him from the downpour.

After I realized Fish had died, I dropped him in the toilet, but in the process had dropped a few marbles in as well. I was attempting to retrieve the marbles with the fish floating around when eight-year-old David peeks in the halfway open bathroom door and says, “Uh mom, what are you doing?”

“Oh, just trying to…uh…retrieve something.”

“What?”

“Marbles.”

“How did marbles get in the toilet?”

“Well, uh, the fish died this morning, so I am flushing him…that’s just what you do when a fish dies and I dropped some marbles in there too.”

David’s eyes widened and he yelled, “Kevin killed the fish!”

“No, Kevin did not kill the fish. Why would you even say that?”

“Yes, he did! Because of all the stuff he put in there.”

At this point, Kevin came in asked what happened to Fishie.

“Fishie died honey.”

“OH NO!” Kevin wailed. “I need to say good-bye to Fishie!”

“You killed him.” David said matter of factly.

“I not kill fishie! I need to say good-bye to fishie!”

At this point I had retrieved my marbles and could still see Fishie’s blue fin under the toilet hole.

“Okay, then let’s all say good-bye to Fishie.”

The boys crowded around the toilet..rather sullen, Kevin teary eyed, and exclaimed “GOOD BYE FISHIE!” as I flushed Fishie. Kevin’s lip was pouted out, grieving over Fishie, while David was still convinced that this tragic event was Kevin’s fault.

I was ready for a conversation of where Fishie would go, and would we see him in heaven, and could we get another fish but after about five minutes both boys began playing with their trains and didn’t mention the fish again. I cleaned the tank and put it away.

Hopefully we will get it out again before too long.



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