Little Fishes

Still living (and accept that I will be) with one foot in 2020 and one in 2022.   This time in 2020, we were on Day 3 of Bob's second round of chemo.  What we found disturbing the previous time, and even more disturbing this time was the precautions taken by the nurses.  They would wheel the IV bag and paraphernalia in on a cart, and then prepare themselves.  Two gowns - the usual one, and a thicker one.  Face masks.  Some also wore face shields.  Two pairs of gloves.  All this to protect themselves from the stuff that they were pouring into Bob's veins.

But now it's 2022 and I'm buying goldfish.  As I wrote in an earlier post, my plan with my current downsizing was to wait for the fish to die off, then take down the aquarium.  But I decided that I actually like having the light, and the sound of falling water, and the fish swimming about.  But not enough to faff about with it.  So I kept up Bob's legacy and rescued another half-dozen feeder goldfish.  And a pleco for good measure, because I think they're cool looking fish.  I even got some fake seaweed.  I did have to laugh at the sign above the tank of "because of the delicate nature of feeder fish, it is not advised to keep them as pets.  There are no refunds or exchanges on feeder fish."  I asked the shop owner about this - do people really try to get a refund on a 17-cent fish?  She shook her head.  "You'd be surprised."   And no, they're not that delicate.  But stick in in a goldfish bowl with no aeration, and let the water go stale, and yeah, they die.  And then people want their 17 cents back.

The last couple of years have been a stream of things and people going away.  So it feels a little strange, and maybe even a little good, to bring something in.  Give these guys a better life than being food for a bigger fish.