Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead.

You know I try to do the right thing. We are living 4 hours apart from Joe at the moment due to special circumstances. Well, the circumstances are as such: Joe has a job and I'm going back to school. Montana is a huge state and there aren't any universities near where Joe works. So, the kids and I moved to Bozeman. We see him about every 2 weeks. It's tough but it isn't long-term, which is the only thing that comforts us.

Our apartment in Bozeman does not allow pets except for fish. So, we had to leave our cat, Dexter with Joe. Bummer. The kids miss Dexter, since he's a great little cat. In order to make things easier, Joe promised Miles he could have a couple of fish.

Fine. Fish. It brings back memories from when I was a kid and my brother Mike always had to have goldfish and then the time he dropped the goldfish in the gold shag carpeting (gotta love the 70s) and feverishly tried to save all of them. I got 'em, Mom!

So, I took Miles and Caitlynn to the pet store to buy fish. We chose 3 tiger barbs, a nice little aquarium, decorations, and food. I named the fish Larry, Curly, and Moe but Miles wanted one named Nemo. Whatever. The fish can't hear us and they all look alike. Names don't really matter at this point.

After the fish got to their new home, Miles decided he would talk to them every day. "Hello, fishy!" He even wanted to hold the fish because they are so cute and cuddly.

Miles spent the next couple of days observing his little fish. He noticed that they sleep-walk or rather sleep-swim because as he pointed out, fish don't have legs and therefore cannot walk. Who knew.

Then there was the morning that one of the fish died. Miles found it laying behind the "Gone fisin" sign and told me about it. He told me as I was making coffee and still quite groggy. I didn't believe him until I saw it for myself. Sure enough, the fish was dead.

We've dealt with death before (first my mom, then my 15 year old cat), so this wasn't a cause for alarm. It was just another thing that happens. Fish die. But it reminds me of that episode of The Cosby Show where Rudy's goldfish dies. The part where they hold a funeral is classic. Watch and enjoy. We didn't have a funeral but it did get flushed down the toilet. Miles did the honors.

So long, fishy (Nemo or Curly or Larry -- whatever your name was). We'll miss you.

Free Blog Counter