Being the wonderful, loving mother that she is, E went to the pet store with a glint in her eye and asked for a pair of goldfish and a bowl that would provide daily enjoyment for our children and about seven dollars of pain for our bank account. Being the horrible, soulless demon child that he is, the salesman at the pet store lied to E that a goldfish needs a ten gallon tank and the more economical path is getting a one gallon tank for a beta fish. Oh, make that two beta fish. And don't forget the divider for the tank, because beta fish literally fight each other to the death when placed in the same tank. Being the wonderful, loving, far-too-trusting person that she is, E dropped $50 on the tank, the divider, and the creatures whose general approach to life probably should have precluded them from entry into our home.
Things with our new pets started off well, as it gave Matthew the opportunity to name two living creatures "Woodchip" and "McQueenfish". I have no idea where the name "Woodchip" came from, but I must say it is probably the best name for a fish, or any other animal, ever.
Two weeks later, Woodchip died. He spent the previous 13 days floating on his side, refusing to eat, and slowly bloating. But at least he had a tremendous name. His legacy is a fine one, as he bestowed upon Thea the gift of knowing what slow death looks like.
McQueenfish is still with us, and he is quite the trooper, still going strong in spite of the grief of knowing that he was not the one to knock off Woodchip. Within minutes of Woodchip dying, I proposed we change McQueenfish's name to Woodchip. My humanity was questioned and the request was denied.
Every day, the kids wave at McQueenfish and say "hello" to him. It is very cute and loving. No one ever asks or thinks about Woodchip. He really did lead a life well lived. The children's daily interaction makes owning a fish worthwhile. Conversely, the remaining characteristics of fish ownership make it dumb and stupid and make me want to eat all of the fish not just the delicious ones. For example, did you know that you have to clean the tank every week? Or that when you open the tank to clean it, 90% of the water has been replaced by McQueenfish's feces? Or that when you are cleaning it you need to keep an 18 month old's hand out of the tank because said 18 month old has an alarming thinking process? Or that the main ingredient is fish food is fish? What would this country do if the first ingredient in Alpo was beagle?
It is actually a small miracle that McQueenfish has not followed Woodchip into the public septic system, as Matthew last week dumped the entire container of fish food (ingredients: other fish) into the tank. A container of fish food holds over 200 servings of food and fish will eat until they run out of food or die of overconsumption. That was a week ago, and McQueenfish is still kicking strong. Also, he has been making a bubble nest lately, which is indicative of fish happiness. So apparently his owner's attempt to murder him is right up his alley.
I really, really, really hope that our first dog doesn't die in two weeks. I'm cool with calling it Woodchip.
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