Some of you may remember our fish, Fish. Fish has lived an incredible life. Fish has survived dirty fishbowl water, a weekend alone while we went off to Bear Lake, sporadic feedings, and being babysat by random, saintly friends. Caring for Fish has been one of the most tedious tasks I can think of in recent history. Transporting him (her?) at my feet all the way down to Arizona... well, there aren't words for that.
That was 4 1/2 years ago.
I am convinced the reason Fish has lived so long is because we can't stand him (her?). Fish lives out of spite. He/she is evil to the core. That sideways look, the swimming happily around a bowl with no rocks or plants or toys, surviving that strange blister and the funky fin? Pure evil.
Well, this morning takes the proverbial cake.
I was making my oatmeal. I placed the bowl in the microwave. I closed it. I looked down at the counter. Expletive #1!
Fish was on the counter. The back fin was dried, stuck to the granite. The sideways eyeball was staring into my soul.
I ran across the kitchen. Expletive #'s 2, 3, 4, and 5! Oh, expletive #6. (Not a good way to start Sunday morning.)
I forced myself back over there. I looked. I saw the gills move. The freaking fish was still moving! Two more exclamations. I hated this fish on a whole new level. Quickly I grabbed the other, clean fishbowl, filled it with water, and grabbed the fish net. I scraped Fish off the counter and he/she plunked awkwardly into the water. I shall never in all my years forget the sound of the dried fin pulling off the countertop. I slid the bowl behind a frame of lovely butterfly prints, not able to bear the sight of what might happen.
I looked over there 4 minutes ago.
Fish is swimming. Defiant, uncoordinated, yea verily I say, happily swimming. Not floating. In the poignant words of Dory, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming."
Expletive #9. (Not really, that's just a fitting way to end the story.)
You have to admire that kind of tenacity.
ReplyDeleteI had a goldfish that jumped out of the bowl all the time. I wanted to kill it because the darn thing just made me crazy so I covered the bowl with a cheese grater - it survived all attempts at jumping out and got small bloody scrapes which it survived - once it particularly pissed me off by knocking the grater off and the fish jumped out and landed in the small space between the end of the counter and the fridge - I freaked out realizing that now I caused its certain death. I shoved my hand in that tiny crevice taking skin off the top of my hand (payback for the cheese grater on the fish bowl) and pulled the fish back out lifeless and covered in dust. I tossed it back in the bowl and it lived and swam happily for another 3 years. You kept Mimi and Ivy alive for me during two Christmas vacations from school so fish must just love us.
ReplyDeleteHa!!! Ha!!!! What a bad fish.
ReplyDeleteWe had a beta fish named Olaf. He survived swimming in diet coke water for a whole day. (You should ask people with very small children to fish-sit.)
The general rule of thumb with pets is always this, "the more you love them the more likely they will be to have accidents, illness, or die a tragic death, and the more you detest them the more likely they will be to live irritatingly long healthy lives."
ReplyDeleteHorrific! Your Sunday experience sounds absolutely awful! I'm cursing the fish. And the thought of that dried fin just makes me cringe everywhere.
ReplyDeleteOf course, you made me laugh! Happy Sabbath.
Long Live the Fish!
ReplyDeletehahahahahaha!
ReplyDeleteYou are very lucky to have such a trooper as a daughter-in-law. I love it that she called your grandchild watching "The Tom and Louise Show."
ReplyDeleteI am ashamed to admit my in-laws gave our kids a very expensive battery operated fire truck that was so noisy it drove me up the wall. The truck "accidentally" got left outside in the rain and was ruined. Sarah is a saint for keeping your gift alive. It wouldn't have survived a month at my house.