Category: that damn fish

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alas, Splaish and Splish have gone on to the big fishbowl in the sky

They were noble fish. In the evenings we turned on the light and enjoyed them. Most of the time.

Splaish was especially enjoyed, as he travelled quite a bit. He was a nomadic fish, living alternately in Conyers and Atlanta. He was by far the more worldy of the two, and attended the Georgia Institute of Technology. He was a bit more debonair, too, as his beautiful tail was almost an object d’art. Then Splish tried to take a bite out of it, resulting in their separation. 

Splish moved out to her own fishbowl, but frankly, she was slumming it. Splaish had the nice digs, with the filter and light and his own personal fishman-cave. He stayed there in his final days, rarely having the energy to venture out. Still, he was well taken care of…he was fed every other day, and the light was turned on to be enjoyed. I would have to say, there was nary a fish in the world who was as enjoyed as Splaish.

Splish, on the other hand, was just a bully. She kept me company while I washed the dishes. Her light was always on, so she was very much enjoyed as well.

You will be missed, good fish.

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I tried to assassinate the fish

The poor thing has a will to live like that unfortunate African violet I had when we lived in Germany. That plant lived in spite of everything I did to it, and even survived a week we spent in Berlin. I had set it on top of the radiator while I moved some things around, and forgot about it. When we returned, it was a crispy little mass of toasted leaves. I added water and put it back on the windowsill, and it recovered miraculously.

The fish must be channeling those vibes. The vase where it lives was getting pretty ripe, so I prepared a small, clean holding area in a mason jar while I cleaned up the algae. The problem was moving the fish to the mason jar because I couldn’t find the net.

I improvised.

I used a pasta strainer, only I didn’t count on the fish being unhappy and bouncing all over the place. It bounced right out into the sink and then stopped flopping. I was grossed out, but grosser still is the fact that my nails are long and I didn’t want to stab the little guy.

I was successful in my rescue mission and had to repeat the process to get it back into its home. The surprising thing is that this morning, it doesn’t look worse for the wear. Please don’t tell me these things are like cats and have like a bazillion lives.

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