Its a sad, sad day at our house. Sniff, Sniff. My...pet...fish...Fat Albert...died. AHHHHHHHHHH.
Ok, maybe that's a LITTLE dramatic. I only had Fat Albert for one week, but I feel like we really connected. Let me start at the beginning:
It was like a scene out of an old movie. I was walking through the aisles at the Cleveland County Fair. It had just stoped raining and the fog was rising from the ground. And out of nowhere, there he was, sitting pretty at the throw-a-pingpong-ball-at-a-fishbowl game. He was the lovely orange goldfish on the left corner, with a little white spot on his belly. On my fourth toss, my pingpong ball went in. Life began to pass in slow motion. The heavens opened, angels were singing, the Carnie-Man handed him to me and he was mine. Sweet little Fat Albert. Life was good. It was me, Josh and little Fatty (that's what we called him for short.) Sidenote: As for the origin of his name, Fat Albert is the game next to the trow-a-pingpong-ball-at-a-fishbowl game. It has something to do with a mouse and colored squares. I would've liked for his name to be a little more meaningful too; but hey, I was under pressure, so back off.
Fat Albert and I had a lot of special memories, which may or may not have contributed to his untimely death. He liked to be carried around in my purse like a little dog. I'm also pretty sure that he liked jets in his fishbowl. Of course I didn't have one of those, but I did blow through a straw a couple of times, to which he squealed for delight. And I'm positive that he liked frosted mini-wheats. We were somewhat caught off gaurd on Fat Albert's addition to our family, so we didn't exactly have fish food around the house. But I put a frosted mini-wheat in his bowl and he ate it/it turned the water in his bowl white. We also like to gab about our days....me answering phone and typing work orders and him swimming in circles in his tiny flower vase.
So reading about all these happy memories, I'm sure you'd be surprised too if you came home and instead of a friendly fish face, you were met with your favorite (or only) pet fish floating eye-up in his bowl. I thought at first it was a trick since he wasn't floating all the way, but when he didn't roll over or sit I knew something was up. I yelled and I cried....and I flushed him down the toilet. Then I began to think about why exactly you flush fish down the toilet. Why don't they get a backyard burial like any old cat or dog? Hmmmmm, I smell a little prejudice here.
Back to the issue at hand: Cheers to you Fat Albert! You were the best week-long pet a gal could ask for!
on a side note, I thought I should mention that I have no plans to purchase any future pets. so breathe a sigh of relief, all fish, dogs, ponies, chipmunks, and goats are safe.
he LOVED to ride in my purse..........................and he loved bingo, but we actually lost this round, eventhough we had 9 cards...what the heck?!
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