Ok this blog has become pathetic. So I'm going to blog about a pathetic subject. My fish. I say he's mine because I feed him and clean out his jar and save his sorry little fins when he tries to end his life. Isabelle bought a pair of fish a few months ago. We kept them in a largish round vase thingy with some glass rocks at the bottom for decoration. I thought they would live for about a week. Tops.
Well they kept living and livng. And then we noticed that one of them started getting bigger and the other seemed to be getting smaller. Then we noticed that the bigger one was actually chasing the little one around and eating it's tail fin. Weird.
Eventually the smaller one died. Survival of the fittest, and this one wasn't it. So now I really don't like the lone fish very much because he's a canibal killer. But it's not in my human nature to let something die. Meanwhile I keep feeding the thing and cleaning out his stinky smelly jar.
This fish has a deathwish. Several times I have witnessed him jumping out of his jar onto the floor, counter, sink, etc. And what do I do??? I freak out and save him. Every. Single. Time.
How much longer is this thing going to keep living? I secretly hope he tries suicide when I'm not around for once to save him. Is that bad?
Will someone please blog about something now?
3 comments:
Good job getting the blog ball rolling, Becky. Funny fish story! It reminds me of my chickens - they get mean to eachother and I start to harbor ill-feelings toward them! You'll have to blog again if one day you find his suicide was successful.
You should write a book. It would become a best seller.
It all sounds fishy to me.
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