The Empty Tank

Sammy was a good fish.  We weren't ready for the responsibility of a dog yet, but this little beta fish was just as excited to see a person at the door as any puppy.  I never knew a fish could have personality, but he actually showed a preference for my daughter.  When she got overzealous with the fish food one day, Sammy took a vacation to Oma's house.  He flared his gills at her and refused to eat anything except when Belle came on the weekends.  Depression?  Homesickness?  Happy as a clam to return home, he seemed to be quite comfortable in his little tank with the treasure chest and fake sea plants.

I told my husband I didn't want a fish.  It is just a responsibility without return except an interesting decoration.  I felt guilty keeping an animal in captivity this way.  He reassured me that the fish would be quite happy living a leisurely life, hand fed and safe from predators.  I was okay with that.  And I must admit that I grew fond of the thing after a while.  He was kinda cute, too.

Do you think that I didn't tell the children that we don't pet fish?  Or that we shouldn't put things in the water? Or take the fish out of the water? Of course I told them, but their parent filter must have blocked out the sound of my voice.  This is the kind of story that can make a person laugh and cry at the same time.  We've all done our share of crying except little four-year-old Sweetheart who is the major culprit.  Their first experience with death, I'm not sure he quite understands it all.  He just wanted to play with Sammy.

Belle asked if I could take a picture of him so she could remember him.  Surely I have a picture of him already looking healthy and happy?  Alas, no.