One Fish, Two Fish, White Fish, Orange Fish

About a month ago, we inherited two fish- or should I say, we rescued two fish- from my grandparent's house. My grandparents had been to a benefit, and a fishbowl with fish served as the centerpiece at every table. Near the end of the evening, the M.C. asked everyone to look under their seats, and sure enough, my 91 year old grandpa had the sticker under his seat for their table, and they went home that night with four fish.

They tried to pawn them off on my cousin, but she is a smarter person than I, and ran like the wind. So, my grandparents kept them hoping to find them a good home. Now, it should be known that my grandma is the nicest woman alive. I know this isn't generally a stretch for a grandma, but let me just put it this way: At nearing 94, my grandma cleans with her cleaning lady, Anita, and serves her a full course lunch when she comes every other Monday. And we're not talking about cold meat sandwiches- she makes the works, and has grown to know Anita's favorites, and fixes them for her often, and sends her home with leftovers. The best part; my grandma can't believe that no one else does this for Anita. However, as nice as my grandma is, the woman clearly was not meant to have fish. She was feeding them bits of club cracker. One day, she told me, my Uncle Reed fed the fish some bits of cookie. Oh boy. Believe it or not, only three survived on that stellar diet. So naturally, when she asked me during a visit to their house if we wanted some fish, I had to save them. Marin got all excited, and named them Marin, Emilie and Norah. By the time we left that afternoon, Fish Norah took a swim down the sewage system. On the way home, I told Marin that GG and OG kept one of the fish, so that's why we only brought Fish Marin and Fish Emilie home with us. Fish Marin is orange, Fish Emilie is white.

Also on the way home, we stopped to buy the poor fish some proper fish food. And, because with two small children, and a big ole dog I have nothing else to do, I know feed the fish three times a day, and clean the bowl and change the water every other day. I'm such a sucker. I told my brother that he owes me, because he was next on my grandma's list, and I'm positive he would have taken them. That kid is such a softie for animals, its almost embarrassing. He sings to his cats. Made up cat songs just for them. He's sorta weird. (Love you, Jake!)

Meanwhile, every morning I was rushing to make sure Fish Marin and Fish Emilie weren't floating on top of the water. I knew for sure I didn't want Marin to discover this as she told them, "Good morning, fishies!" as she loves to do. If she makes it through the getting ready process every morning without any whining, she gets to feed them. (Side note: I can't believe this works as well as it does!) One morning, I discovered Fish Marin having a little trouble swimming. Panic set in. Marin would be so sad if something happened to Fish Marin or Fish Emilie. I'm pretty sure no one has ever willed a goldfish to live quite like I did. Knowing the inevitable, I told her that Fish Marin wasn't feeling so well. And a few mornings later, I found her floating on the top of the bowl. I scooped her out, flushed her down and braced myself to tell Marin after she woke up.

She took the news pretty well. I asked her if she remembered that Fish Marin wasn't feeling well, and she had. Then I told that she died that morning and went to fish heaven. She just said, "Oh." And then perked up, "Prolly if I go sing to her, she will feel all better!" I told her what a sweet thought that was, but that unfortunately it wouldn't work. Then I suggested maybe she could sing to Fish Emilie, because she might miss her friend. Marin loved that idea, and sang to her right away.

Fish Emilie seems to be doing well. Our friend Rob, once won a goldfish at his elementary school carnival, and it lived until he was in college. I'm praying to the fish gods that I don't have to take care of this fish for that long. But I'm also equally hoping that she lives long enough to where Marin loses interest, so we won't have to replace the fish with a likely longer living, healthier one.

Without further ado, I introduce you to Fish Emilie and, (may she rest in watery peace), Fish Marin.