A Tale of Two Fish

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Sometime around mid-July, Jake, Doodle and I went out of town for the day.  When we returned, we had a pair of goldfish sitting in a cute little bowl on our counter.  I felt strangely violated, someone had been in our house, but instead of our “attack” dog tearing them to shreds to stop them from taking our less-than-valuable possessions, we were left with a gift while nothing had been taken.  Kind of reminded me of an old Dane Cook stand-up where he talked about breaking into people’s houses and leaving them something instead of taking everything.  How they’d look around everywhere looking for something that was missing, they must have taken something, right?

We find out a day or two later that Jake’s mom had stopped by to drop them off.  I guess she found the bowl at a garage sale and just couldn’t resist.  Hehe, ok…

So we inherited these fish.  And some fish food, chlorine get-rid-of-er stuff, and spare pebbles.  Everything we need for fish, right?  Well, except for the ability to remember we had fish…  Afterall, it’s not like we had the specific intention of owning fish, you know?

So days go by.  I assume Jake’s been feeding them, he assumes I’ve been feeding them.  Recipe for disaster, huh?  Well, every week or so, we’ll catch each other, and one of us will ask the other, “Uh, have you been feeding the fish?  Because I haven’t!”  Oops.  So we feed them, then promptly forget that they should probably eat again at some point.

This goes on for a few months and these fish are totally still kicking.  We decide they should have names.  They’ve earned it, right?  We have two thrift store coffee cups with paintings of Guatemala on them that say Leslie and Perry on them.  Good names for fish, right?  Goldfish are from Guatemala, right…?

So Leslie and Perry start running out of water every so often (darn evaporation!), and we really don’t notice.  When we do, we figure we’ll take care of it later, but then forget about being fish owners again…  Do you see the pattern here yet?  Every time friends come over, they’re completely amazed that these darn fish are still alive.

So, at some point in these months, I notice a fly is stuck in the water.  Instead of being a kind fish owner and retrieving this foreign matter from their home, I notice he’s stuck on the water surface and it kind of looks like he’s dancing.  So I grab my camera…

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Then I get totally caught up in sifting through all of my pictures to find the perfect one to post on facebook.  While I’m on facebook, I get stuck in facebook, and I totally space that there’s still a fly stuck in the fish tank.  Oops…

We wake up the next morning and the stuck fly is dead, as is one of the fish.  We could never really tell them apart, they’re effing goldfish, so we decide Leslie was the one who perished – we always liked the Perry coffee cup better anyway, so we’ll keep the Perry fish.  I have no idea who was pictured above, so I just pretend it’s our memorial picture for Leslie.

Anyway, so Perry.  We give him new water about every month or so, whenever he only has about two inches or so left, and half the time we even forget about the chlorine stuff.  We remember to feed him about every week or so, sometimes he even gets two days in a row!  It’s the beginning of December now, how in the world is this fish still alive?!

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