Poor fishie. Since I posted the prior blog entry on our decision to get fish, I have been bombarded by family and friends advising me against it.
My mother called to ask if I remembered the time when I was five and we arrived home to find our cat, Big Hairy, had flipped our fish out of the tank and left them to die on the living room carpet.
My "best friend" Trisha called to remind me of the horrible "Jean-Luc / Mr. Bean" pug fiasco, where we thought we were ready for dogs, brought 2 pug puppies home and gave them back within 5 days because they were destroying my sanity and all I could do was cry. (I was in my 20's and a perfectionist and the dogs were messin' with that - so sue me).
And then my dear friend Bernie, a mentor in so many areas of my life, posts a blog about catfish nightmares and nasty tanks that haunts her to this day.
I ask you people--will no one speak on behalf of the fish? Is there not one among you who will stand apart and declare their love for the creatures of God's sea or--as at Aquamain world--the creatures of Tank #141?
Surely there is one among you willing not to cast the first stone. Willing in fact, to stand up and say, "I (insert name), I love the fish!"
I, and the fish, are waiting...