Well, our fish is dead.
He got dropsy, and by the time he started showing symptoms (he'd stopped eating a week before that), the Internet diagnosed him as doomed. So we had this fish swimming around doing a pretty good impression of a pine cone, and now he's dead. There was nothing we could do, and unlike some of the other fish illnesses he could have contracted, dropsy is the one for which there is no one known cause, and for which there is no [relatively expensive for a $3 fish] cure.
Anyway, I never thought I'd miss a fish so much. We're going to finally get that shrimp, but in the meantime I think we're going to fill the tank with anonymous no name fish (to prep the tank for our shrimpy). No more getting attached. I'll be ready for another betta sometime, but not now.
How ridiculous am I? Yeah, I know - maybe it's time for a puppy.
2 comments:
May angelfish sing thee to thy rest, Phinneas.
...Sorry.
I'm sorry Briar. I cried when Fish Fisherson died and made Lily scoop him out of the tank because I couldn't do it.
You should name the new fish, you'll get attached to him.
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