Another One Bites the Dust

In November, we got a fish tank.

Fish.

Because they are supposedly easy to care for, don't bark, whine, or relieve themselves on the carpet, don't need special care when you have to leave, and don't require grooming.

Hmph.

They forget to tell you that while they are somewhat easy to care for, they unfortunately die pretty easy, too. Which in a house full of highly emotional girls, can get a little tricky. Fortunately, our youngest has lightened the mood a bit with her strange fascination of flushing the expired fishies.

So far, we have said our goodbyes to Goldie, who lost his life in a battle with a flowery rock. And we've bid farewell to Horse, who, as best I can tell, went insane and never regained his senses. Then there was Beauty, who one morning we noticed swimming sideways because his tail was completely missing. And this morning Lucy appeared to be doing the backstroke, but was really just floating. Not exactly sure what happened to her.

So, we are left now with Morris, the sucker fish, Maggie the bug eyed one, Brownie, a goldfish with a brown back, and Swimmy, the giant goldfish. I suspect that Swimmy will be the next to pass on. I firmly believe he has the same mental illness that Horse endured. He does weird things, like jumping out of the water and slamming his body against the aquarium lightbulb. That just can't be good.

And now the water is all dirty and foggy again, just days after I cleaned the tank and changed the filter. Perhaps I need a good chat with Fishgirl again. Bless her heart. She might have some helpful advice for our little tank of horrors.