Apr
21
My fish have been exhibiting some strange behavior. I’m pretty sure I’m thinking about it way more than I should. But that’s a normal reaction to something you don’t understand, right? I’m not the weirdo. It’s the fish. The fish are weird.
These are the guys I’m talking about.
The black and white on the left – let’s call him Rick – and the white one with the heart tattoo on the right is Steve. Yes, Steve has a tattoo. Apparently they can do that for fish. I’m not sure how it was determined that Steve was desirous of ink or in which configuration he wished for it to be applied. That’s the job of a fish whisperer, which clearly I am not. We only came to know Steve after he did some living. Obviously. My guess is that he’s had his heart broken. He could be bitter. I don’t know. I give him his space. Rick, on the other hand, does not. Rick likes Steve. Very much. Rick likes to chase Steve.
See? Look! There they go.
Rick? Whatcha doin’ there, buddy?
Rick also likes to stuff his face all up in Steve’s hind quarters. Like this.
Oh, Rick.
And this.
What are you DOING, Rick?
Also this.
For real, Rick? Come on!
Rick does this ALL. DAY. LONG. He’s doing it RIGHT NOW. I’m not sure if Steve feels pestered or pleasured. Fish aren’t all that expressive. It’s hard to read them. Either way, it seems like something I should put a stop to, don’t you think?
Feb
23
It was a year ago (on Sunday) that our Picasso was hit by a car. And while I was telling you, “she’s going to be okay,” the vet was telling us, “we’re not sure she’s going to make it.” Even when she came home, it wasn’t a certainty that she’d survive. She had a great deal of brain damage – the full extent of which we wouldn’t know for months – and a lot of healing to do.
But she did heal. Enough to be under my feet every morning. Enough to to crash through the house either two steps in front or behind my light saber brandishing girls. Enough to find her way to the lap of the one who needs a kitty in it the most. Enough to fill my front window and my heart every time I see her.
Feb
5
This is Monster.
He’s managed to stay alive in our fish tank for coming up on three years.
See? I don’t kill everything.
Feb
4
The Case of the Missing Fish
by Leslie
Remember our cute little puffer fish?
(Look at that little guy. He’s waving at you!)
Yeah, well. They didn’t make it.
I know.
Never get a fish tank. Because if you never get a fish tank, you can never get two fish tanks. Also, because getting a fish tank is like being indebted to the mafia. You pay and you pay and you pay. And then there’s death.
After the tragic loss of the puffers, it was decided that we should begin again with a clean slate and this time? We’d do a cold water tank with hearty (i.e. hard to kill) goldfish. We set up the tank and let it run, just like we learned the hard way that you’re supposed to. Then Julia chose a chubby fantail. Lucy picked a sleek comet. We brought them home, introduced them to their new tank, fed them and said goodnight to two rather largish fish.
We woke up this morning to just one fish.
Lucy’s fish has vanished without a trace.
Lucy is devastated, of course. She’s been talking her way through her feelings of loss, but it’s difficult when there’s no real closure. She’s concluded that Julia’s fish is “weird to live with,” so Silver Friend (that’s what she named him) went to live somewhere else. Probably with Santa.
Dave and I are still scratching our heads, though. Where the hell did that fish go?
Jan
6
It’s Like Living in a Horror Movie
by Leslie
This is Julia’s puffer fish Spotsy.
Lucy’s fish, Nemo, refused to be photographed.
Since we have them, we also have this.
Every day, I get to hit it with a hammer and scoop out some chunks.
Then, I let it thaw and feed it to the fish.
Julia says it looks like frozen strawberries.
I hope she never tries to eat it.
Stuff I Do
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Stuff You Should Do
You know, Stuff.
