A Fish Tale

I find it so interesting that my precious, sweet and innocent little boys have this uncanny ability to talk me into constantly accepting the variety of pets that they bring home. We have had a multitude of “DARLING” kittens, a turtle, a few frogs, tadpoles, and I have even found grasshoppers frozen in our freezer (side note: grasshoppers can be frozen alive—then taken out of the freezer--jump around after the big thaw--and then even used for fishing at a later date. Not to mention, "Freeze Bees" Yes, it is Joe's fault that there is a significant drop in the population of honeybees in Utah. Most of them are in my freezer.) My favorite is the myriad of fish that we have had and subsequently “buried at sea.”

Joe’s English teacher, Mrs. Chynoweth, had several extra “Beta’s” left over from her son’s science project. She’s a pretty smart cookie, that one. She brought them to school and asked “Who would like a free fish?” Joe’s grubby little hand shot quickly in the air and he assured her that it was okay with me. When I got home from work, 'Gill' was sitting on the cupboard in his/her cute little glass home. (I will use the title of “him or his” just to save space. I have no earthly idea how to tell if a fish is a boy or a girl and knowing how to decipher their sex is not currently on my “Bucket List”.

We have had Gill for a little over 2 months. He's practically a member of our family. Joe was diligent about feeding Gill twice a day for about 2 weeks. That’s when I stepped in to help because Joe was---late for school, practicing the piano, playing with his friends, playing the Wii, doing homework, sleeping, etc. So I have been diligent about feeding Gill twice a day and changing the nasty water in his fishbowl every 3 or 4 days. I tried to “help” Joe learn this awesome task but he and pretty much anybody within a mile of our kitchen gagged at the smell. It has been pretty terrible!

Well, Gill and I have become quite good friends. I am very good about picking out his odor just in the nick of time and very carefully transferring Gill into a little cup, cleaning out his little glass house, shining up the rocks in the bottom of the bowl and then adding room-temperature filtered water and ever-so-gently putting Gill back into his home and feeding him the special Beta food we bought at Walmart.

When I wandered into the kitchen this morning at 7:30, (really 6:30, thanks to DST, and about 2 hours before my normal Sunday rising time) I could smell Gill’s nasty home before I could see him. I had already put filtered water out on the cupboard last night so it would be room temperature in time for the “move” this AM. I poured Gill with some of the “ripe” water into his little plastic cup and proceeded to clean out his house. To avoid turning the stomachs of my family, I turned on the disposal and put some disposal cleaner into it to try to rid my sink of the Gill smell. While doing that, I, very carefully and oh so gently, started to put him back into his bowl. Now, had I known that Beta fish have the ability to leap 4” glasses in a single bound, I never would have been cleaning the disposal at the same time I was transferring Joe’s pet.

The only thing I can say is, fish are thoughtful beings. Gill couldn’t bear the thought of seeing me gag anymore or perhaps it was due to having to swim around in his own filth another day. Whatever his reasoning, I believe, he saw his opening. He sacrificed himself so that I would no longer have to endure this madness.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Sorry Joe! Chalk another one up for the greatest mom in the world.