Saturday, August 11, 2012

Something's fishy

My relationship with fish, cooked or uncooked, alive or dead, has never been a good one.  I absolutely hate any kind of fish or anything that comes out of the water for that matter.  Ichthyophobia is the term for this aversion to fish and I'm confident I have this to the fullest extent.  I hate the smell, taste, texture, appearance, feel, creepiness, and evilness of fish.  When I say "fish", I want you to open your mind to include all of those other little sneaky, eerie sea creatures like crabs, shrimp, scallops, oysters, lobsters, clams, mussels, and of course eels, sharks, and sea snakes.  Nothing sounds worse than a sea snake.  That's like the worst of both land and sea worlds, a snake that lives in the sea...or those you might find in a lake and such.  God made the sea snake as a terrible, sick joke.  Much like spiders.  

Now, I am not cold-hearted so therefore I love those cute little sea lions, seals, penguins, dolphins, and things like that.  But I am justified because these are mammals, therefore warm-blooded and not included in that nightmarish posse of freaks that we call seafood.

Anyway, dang I just got way off subject.  So my experience with fish has never turned out to be even remotely pleasant in any case.  Since I don't eat them, swim with them (if i can help it), or even tolerate them, why would I own them?  Until my daughter came along.

Here's my experiences with owning fish.  Avary watched "Shark Tale" and asked if she could get a fish.  We went to PetSmart and bought a male betta.  Got it some food, grassy decorations, rocks, and a pretty little decorative bowl, because we had to class it up somehow:)  Brought it home, named it Lola even though it was a male and set it up in the bowl.  I felt nauseous for the rest of the day with the thought of a fish in my house.  Kinda feel nauseous right now writing about it actually.  But Lola seemed happier than a pig in shit for a couple of hours but started slowing down and just floating around.  Avary had questions so I told her Lola was probably tired and needed a nap.  The fish had a big day!  Before bed, Lola was REALLY floating around if ya know what I mean.  After the kids went to sleep, the husband poked the fish and it was clear.  We had killed it.  So we did our research and concluded that we "froze" the fish.  I didn't realize that fish can be picky and need their water between 76 and 82 degrees.  Gah, anything else I can do for you Mr. Picky Fish?  At 10:30 p.m. I sent the husband out to get a replacement fish while I watched "Pretty Little Liars"...cause that's what we are.  You may have seen that posted on facebook.  I'm still keeping this secret.

Husband comes home with replacement fish who is a female.  If you know bettas then you know the males are all colorful and frilly looking with their flowing tails and all that BS and the females are brown, ugly, and angry looking.  Go figure.  He even bought a bowl thermometer and water de-chlorinator and room temperature bottled water just to be safe.  We acclimated the fish and all was good, for two days.  On day three, Avary realized that replacement Lola was floating.  Great.  Two fishes down in three days.  The kids gave her a burial in the front yard.  What did we do wrong this time?!

No new fish yet but this takes me back to when Avary wasn't even one year old I remember trying out this fish thing.  I bought a betta for her nursery while the husband was deployed.  Named it Anchovy and he did pretty well until we went to NC for a month and left him home alone.  When we came home the poor fish was motionless so I threw in some food.  Two days later he was swimming around!  WTF?  Frankenfish?  I thought, "This fish is a beast!"  So next time we headed out of town, I just knew he would be okay.  Not the case because this time he must've had enough of my crap and gave up the ghost.

So I bought another one.  Yea, I know.  Don't judge me.  I believe we had this one, Sushi, for about a week until he became a floater.  But as I poured him into the toilet and was fixing to flush, I swear I saw him wiggle his tail and he just might have turned and winked at me like, "Sucka!".

Thinking back on all the fish we've had, and killed, I'm beginning to think that they all committed suicide.  All of my friends say that their fish won't die and it's hard to kill a fish.  But I've got them dropping like flies and claiming that they'd rather go night fishing with Scott Peterson!!  OMG, too soon?

I'm scared to get another pet and I look at our dog and wonder if he's secretly trying to escape.  He does bolt out the door and leap off the porch like a gazelle when the door is cracked even an inch.  I'm pretty sure I've seen him flatten himself out like a ferret to get out the door.  But the dumb dog always comes back.

I think from now on, we will stick to watching Finding Nemo and I will turn away when they talk about Darla because I'm sure that how fish view me:/  I reckon they are all God's creatures and have a purpose in their own creepy little way.  Except for sea snakes...and spiders.

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