I remember the first time I met him: He was the most beautiful fish in the store.
Sparkling a dazzling array of blue and green, proudly flashing his fins to all who came near, his personality overflowed the bowl and permeated the few meters around. You could feel his disdain just by looking at him.
Ernest was a fish with character. He swam around while others napped, he lunged when others nibbled, he was furious when others were merely annoyed. Had he lived in his native Thai rice paddies, he would have been a king, a warrior, a splendid fighter.
Ernest was not a fish to be owned. He was a fish who owned, whose company he chose to share with y0u.
For an entire year, Ernest lived with me. His jewel tones danced back and forth behind the magnifying glass of the fishbowl, like a living, precious gem. Today, he decided to move on, to explore, blow bubbles, and nip at the rest of the Universe.
Ernest was more than just a fish. He was a friend, sometimes. He was an enemy, sometimes. He was a rival, sometimes. He was a confidant, sometimes. He was his own person.
Fare well, Ernest. May you find the juiciest and tastiest bloodworms in the Great Fishbowl In The Sky somewhere. I hope you find Michael Phelps and Galileo up there somewhere to keep you company.
Ernest the Ravenous Nymphomaniac Betta Fish
September 2008 - 15 September 2009
Sparkling a dazzling array of blue and green, proudly flashing his fins to all who came near, his personality overflowed the bowl and permeated the few meters around. You could feel his disdain just by looking at him.
Ernest was a fish with character. He swam around while others napped, he lunged when others nibbled, he was furious when others were merely annoyed. Had he lived in his native Thai rice paddies, he would have been a king, a warrior, a splendid fighter.
Ernest was not a fish to be owned. He was a fish who owned, whose company he chose to share with y0u.
For an entire year, Ernest lived with me. His jewel tones danced back and forth behind the magnifying glass of the fishbowl, like a living, precious gem. Today, he decided to move on, to explore, blow bubbles, and nip at the rest of the Universe.
Ernest was more than just a fish. He was a friend, sometimes. He was an enemy, sometimes. He was a rival, sometimes. He was a confidant, sometimes. He was his own person.
Fare well, Ernest. May you find the juiciest and tastiest bloodworms in the Great Fishbowl In The Sky somewhere. I hope you find Michael Phelps and Galileo up there somewhere to keep you company.
Ernest the Ravenous Nymphomaniac Betta Fish
September 2008 - 15 September 2009
2 comments:
my sister has an immortal betta fish that she's had for like five years. he refuses to give up. i'm sorry ernest wasn't the same, but good that you got to know him. :-)
There is no end. Only a change of worlds. Happy hunting, Ernest.
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