Fisheroni

Let me tell you about this fish.

Four years ago (maybe it was 3, but that doesn't seem right, either), just after we moved back from Maine, Cary had the urge to get a pet fish. So, we went to a local pet store and bought the bowl, rocks, food, and a Beta. We named him David Schwimmer.

B's daycare was having their end-of-summer carnival the week after we got Schwimmer, and when I picked her up that afternoon, B was so excited. She wanted to show me her pet fish, and ran over to grab a plastic sandwich bag. Already the poor fish had such little water to swim around in, but even more so, she was pinching the bag to try to stop the poor fish from moving around. I could tell that he was already traumatized, and I don't blame him. He was millimeters away from being squished to death by a 3 or 4 year old...try explaining that to her if it happened. So, immediately, I took the poor fish away and texted Cary to go back to the petstore and get another tank.

I was amazed that Fisheroni not only survived, but he has thrived. 3 (4?) years later, he's beautiful and big. His tail is amazingly big, and the best part, he's not as afraid of us when we go to feed him and even socializes a little (until he gets his food. Then we are nothing to him). Unfortunately after losing Chester earlier this year, he is our only pet, and I'm shocked that he still looks so good when I've heard that fish typically don't live too long.

It's my goal to get him to such an age that we have to give him a small cane to help him get around.