Some of you may recall the goldfish adventures that marked the opening pages of this diary. Lethargic Fish died fairly quickly, while Energetic Fish lasted nearly a week. You can imagine my trepidation when our neighbours asked whether we could take in their fish while they visited family for the holidays.
Bruce arrived in a charming small bowl like the ones my childhood goldfish enjoyed during their all-too-brief lives (yes, I have a history of failing fish.) It is decorated with very nice rocks along the bottom and a spiky green plant on one side. Here the similarities end.
Bruce is not a goldfish. He is a betta - a Japanese fighting fish. He is a very pretty blue, and he is friendly and attentive and smart and delightful. He noticed when I reached for the fish food. He noticed when I was anywhere near his bowl, come to that, zipping right over to my side, fins flapping excitedly. At breakfast time he would watch happily and wait for all four pellets to hit the water before slurping them up. And best of all, he survived! Which is a very big consolation for his having gone home today. Bye-bye Bruce, hope to see you again soon.
3 comments:
oh good- this story had a happy ending. Fare thee well, Bruce!
Yay! My first Siamese fighting fish was named Eric (I was on a Monty Python bender at the time), and he lived a good couple of years before my cat ate him. I'm glad Bruce had a good time at your place, and that the Fish Curse is now broken!
And here we have a fine example of two ways to handle a fish story: one that teases an unhappy ending and delivers a happy one after two and a bit paragraphs, and one snappy one that surprises after just one sentence. I am still blinking at the thought of that cat, proof that Karen really oughtta write another book!
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