Sunday, October 18, 2009
A Fish Story
I placed his bowl on the top of my rolltop desk away from mirror or windows. The literature indicated Bettas could respond to their reflection and hurt themselves by bumping into the sides of their bowl. Wandering by often, I smiled and wriggled my fingers above the bowl to gain his attention.
Nothing happened. He moved like a bloated blueberry. I believe in keeping friendships going. He would not return to the pet store.
During my week's project, Finny grew weaker as my words grew stronger. I became vigilant, changed his water and moved him to other locations. Unfortunately, I had to bury him in a daisy plant.
Seven years later, the daisies bloom with an added cerulean shine. He has found his callilng.