The Pet Curse

You may remember that not quite two months ago we got a new pet, Figaro, the fish. (Because I killed the pet mice, right?)

In case you'd forgotten, here are some photos, snapped the day we bought that cute little Betta fish.

That I killed.

Yes, I did it again, folks. I broke my little 7 year old's heart.

But I refuse to take all of the blame. Mark planned this surprise vacation and did not plan a place for Figaro. So, he asked me what to do with her, and I said she'd be fine for 4 days. I mean, I have a friend who tried for a MONTH to kill her Betta fish. Another friend didn't feed hers for a month and it finally died. So 4 days doesn't seem like such a big deal, right?

I was wrong.

When we came home, she was NOT swimming in her bowl. The water was murky and smelly.

Jaxon started crying and (this is the worst part) told me that maybe Figaro was like an iguana, it could change it's color to match it's background, so he was still there swimming around, but he just blended in with the shells and plants.

That's when I started crying. Then I told Jaxon we were going right now to buy a new fish. He perked up at that news.

Why am I the worst pet person in the world?

Or, perhaps the better question is why do I have a child that LOVES pets where I barely tolerate them? (This is where I tell you that Jaxon would sing lullabies to Figaro and kiss his bowl goodnight).

When Mark cleaned out the bowl and found half of Figaro in one of the shells at the bottom.

The new fish's name is Herman.

We'll see if he can last more than 2 months.


If not, maybe we need something a little more robust, like a cat or dog.