Making the Ordinary, Extraordinary
Here I swim around.
Fun is hardly found ’round here.
No friends and rare food.
That may be the life of the sad beta fish above, but a much larger tank in the Atlantic City Aquarium shows much happier seahorses. I think the fish at the Denver Aquarium, which I visited last Winter, were happiest, because they had the coolest aquariums and lots of cool plants.
I bid farewell to the fish Psycho Killer (the beta in the first photo.) Note: I did not name him this. I called him dolt or vulture, depending on what he was doing. If your fish jumped into the sink, and therefore the sink grinder region, you’d call him a dolt too. And he was always asking for food or attention. He was an interesting fish. He used to jump out of his tank or swim in tight circles when my Mother walked by, because he was a smart fish that knew who fed him. He used to nod his head at me when I walked by, because he knew I saved him in the “Sink Grinder” potential disaster and I cleaned his tank. He used to literally turn his head the other way and sulk when my sister walked by, because she abandoned him at our house after his life in the dorm was discovered and she got in trouble. He liked to pick up or shuffle the rocks at the bottom of his tank, which managed to make a good bit of sound, because he wanted everyone to pay attention to him or feed him. He was a one dollar fish that shouldn’t have lived past a month and somehow made it to two years. And now he is swimming in the sky with lots of friends to bully and smaller fish to eat without the need for spinning or hopping.