Ode to Betta
Some people bury their pets. Cats, dogs, hamsters.... I bury fish. Specifically I bury betta fish. Perhaps it's silly since they are rather small in comparison (you can't flush a gerbil...well, probably not successfully) but today I buried 2 bettas. No they did not have some type of horrific fight to the death. It's actually more of a coincidence.
Today was a beautiful day and I decided it was finally the day - Gore having resided in our freezer, carefully shrouded and wrapped, for about 1 yr.....or more. This was it. I found a perfect spot beneath these purple flowers that bloom en masse in the front yard. I was ready. Gore, short for Allegorey, had been my friend through a rather lonely and ever-changing period after college. He demanded nothing but food and a clean bowl. He was peaceful to watch and, regardless of what you may think, he had a definitive personality. He was feisty and responded to my pet chatter through the glass. He was quiet and friendly. A perfect gentle-fish and a fine roommate. My silent companion in my "pet free" apartment. So when he passed languidly into that fishbowl in the sky I decided he was better than a toilet bowl funeral. However revered that porcelain throne I simply could not put this little buddy through the big flush. So I buried him...today.
I also buried Rummy. Rummy was red and the second in my new betta love. He lived a full fish life, approx. 1 1/2 yrs. and was a favorite. He was a different sort of betta since he lived in our aquarium with an assortment of other finny tikes. He was passive and liked his personal space. Whether it be the "summer house" or a small corner, he was well-liked and respected by his fish family. He too was responsive to my chatter, coming up to eat each time I called and wiggled a finger. He was steadfast, lovely, and a fine addition to the tank. He recently began to act his age and I felt his time was coming. I did not expect today, hours after I buried my first betta buddy, to bury him as well.
It is ironic but poetically fitting that Rummy pass the day Gore is buried. Now Rummy is buried a few inches away from Gore and I feel comforted in knowing that they lay where they do. It's corny, I know, these attachments. And believe me I'd prefer a dog. But there is a soft spot now for Betta fish. I will get another, and certainly he will be that same responsive, elegant fish.
Today was a beautiful day and I decided it was finally the day - Gore having resided in our freezer, carefully shrouded and wrapped, for about 1 yr.....or more. This was it. I found a perfect spot beneath these purple flowers that bloom en masse in the front yard. I was ready. Gore, short for Allegorey, had been my friend through a rather lonely and ever-changing period after college. He demanded nothing but food and a clean bowl. He was peaceful to watch and, regardless of what you may think, he had a definitive personality. He was feisty and responded to my pet chatter through the glass. He was quiet and friendly. A perfect gentle-fish and a fine roommate. My silent companion in my "pet free" apartment. So when he passed languidly into that fishbowl in the sky I decided he was better than a toilet bowl funeral. However revered that porcelain throne I simply could not put this little buddy through the big flush. So I buried him...today.
I also buried Rummy. Rummy was red and the second in my new betta love. He lived a full fish life, approx. 1 1/2 yrs. and was a favorite. He was a different sort of betta since he lived in our aquarium with an assortment of other finny tikes. He was passive and liked his personal space. Whether it be the "summer house" or a small corner, he was well-liked and respected by his fish family. He too was responsive to my chatter, coming up to eat each time I called and wiggled a finger. He was steadfast, lovely, and a fine addition to the tank. He recently began to act his age and I felt his time was coming. I did not expect today, hours after I buried my first betta buddy, to bury him as well.
It is ironic but poetically fitting that Rummy pass the day Gore is buried. Now Rummy is buried a few inches away from Gore and I feel comforted in knowing that they lay where they do. It's corny, I know, these attachments. And believe me I'd prefer a dog. But there is a soft spot now for Betta fish. I will get another, and certainly he will be that same responsive, elegant fish.