the tragical death of hector
On second thought, maybe I shouldn't have named him Hector....
I have (had) two lovely beta fish, one fire-red named Hector, and a gloriously blue Achilles. Originally, I had named them the other way around, because the red one was so bright, and the blue so peaceful looking. But after a couple days, I realized that the blue one was crazy, and somewhat violent. Hence, he became Achilles.
Aren't they gorgeous?
Now, as anyone who knows anything about betas knows, you can't put two males together. Ever. Also, since betas originally are born and live in puddles in Japan their whole lives, they actually only need or want a very small amount of space in which to live. So I had Hector in one large wine glass, and Achilles in another. They were very striking, if I do say so myself.
But today, tragedy! I came home from work on a lunch break, and noticed that the left glass was shockingly empty. So after a couple minutes of confused searching (I mean, where the hell does a fish go when he gets tired of his tank?) I finally found a sad, shriveled little brownish-red parody of a fish on the carpet about two feet away from the table. It appears that Hector, for reasons unknown, jumped from his wine glass, made it to the edge of the table, and then flopped his dying way across the barren carpet until, alas, he perished. What a terribly ignoble way to die.
So, considering my thorough grounding in the classics, I maybe ought to have known better than to curse my poor fish. Ah well. At least Achilles didn't drag his carcass all around the apartment first.
You know, after Bob (my Beta #1) lived two whole years in spite of ridiculous circumstances, I think I'm kind of disappointed in Hector, getting all crazy and suiciding for no good reason. I mean, I've actually been feeding them every damn day; I've changed their water every couple of weeks. There are absolutely no cats around. And I haven't dropped a brick on either of them at all.
Silly Hector. My next one shall be named...Hulk. Or maybe Anachronistic. Ooh! Rikki Tikki Tavi!
I have (had) two lovely beta fish, one fire-red named Hector, and a gloriously blue Achilles. Originally, I had named them the other way around, because the red one was so bright, and the blue so peaceful looking. But after a couple days, I realized that the blue one was crazy, and somewhat violent. Hence, he became Achilles.
Aren't they gorgeous?
Now, as anyone who knows anything about betas knows, you can't put two males together. Ever. Also, since betas originally are born and live in puddles in Japan their whole lives, they actually only need or want a very small amount of space in which to live. So I had Hector in one large wine glass, and Achilles in another. They were very striking, if I do say so myself.
But today, tragedy! I came home from work on a lunch break, and noticed that the left glass was shockingly empty. So after a couple minutes of confused searching (I mean, where the hell does a fish go when he gets tired of his tank?) I finally found a sad, shriveled little brownish-red parody of a fish on the carpet about two feet away from the table. It appears that Hector, for reasons unknown, jumped from his wine glass, made it to the edge of the table, and then flopped his dying way across the barren carpet until, alas, he perished. What a terribly ignoble way to die.
So, considering my thorough grounding in the classics, I maybe ought to have known better than to curse my poor fish. Ah well. At least Achilles didn't drag his carcass all around the apartment first.
You know, after Bob (my Beta #1) lived two whole years in spite of ridiculous circumstances, I think I'm kind of disappointed in Hector, getting all crazy and suiciding for no good reason. I mean, I've actually been feeding them every damn day; I've changed their water every couple of weeks. There are absolutely no cats around. And I haven't dropped a brick on either of them at all.
Silly Hector. My next one shall be named...Hulk. Or maybe Anachronistic. Ooh! Rikki Tikki Tavi!