Friday, May 9, 2008
Sleeping with the fishies
Having such a bijou place to live there really is no other option on choices when it comes to pets. Ideally I would love to have a dog but its impossible and totally unfair on a canine com padre with no place to roam (and if I was going to get a dog it would be two of them for companionship) So I decided that a surprise was in order for the girls when I passed by a charity shop and seen a beautiful glass fishbowl in the window for a steal of 3 euro. The fish where quickly named Knuckle and Sammitch and my daughters squealed with delight and enthused over them for many days.Both Suolas and I looked up about their care and habits online and even got a filter pump to keep the little buggers in top form until we noticed something was awry, One of the fish was swimming like it had suffered a stroke, upon closer inspection it was missing a side fin.
Suolas was worried about the poor little bleeder and didn't hold out much hope for it when he discovered that knuckle was indeed having a nibble at sammitch on a daily basis. I too observed this on occasion whilst doing the dishes (the bowl is in situ at the kitchen window) tapping on the side of the fishbowl did nothing to deter him , sometimes he would stop and swim over to the side of the bowl, almost squaring up to me with that look of 'what are you going to do about it then??' in his glassy eyes. I thought maybe if the greedy bastard gets more food he'll stop picking on poor sammitch- no - he started to have a chew on sammichs dorsal, the ruthless Lectar of the goldfish bowl that he is.
When I got up this morning Suolas announced on the QT that Sammitch's suffering was over and he had made the journey from the white porcelain tunnel to the great fish pond in the afterlife. The girls where concerned of his where abouts so I told them he had hurt his tail and was collecting him from the goldfish hospital that morning. They where happy enough with this explanation as the truth would have been too much to absorb into their sensitive little hearts. So later in the petshop asked for the biggest MOFO of the goldfish that they had in the tank Survival of the fittest he he he. Anyway later when drying my eldest from the shower we got talking about sammitch's supposed injury and I told her he hurt his tail when he slipped on the stones - how did he slip on the stones ? she beckoned the question, distracted with her younger sisters mischief I said non chalantly that he was dancing to which she replied with the tone of disbelief and demand 'Dancing??!! I don't see no dancing EVER in the goldfish bowl! I was rumbled. when she was dressed for bed she walked straight over to the kitchen sink and stared for some time and announced there was no dancing going on but the big (new) fish chasing the little one. Sammitch can rest in peace now but my daughters curiosity wont.