Saturday, April 9, 2011

#3 He Takes Care of My Wall-E Fish

I'm not really a pet person. Now, don't confuse this statement with the thought that I'm anti-animal or a pet-a-phob. Since before I was born, my family always had cats. They were okay. But, cats are hard for me to accept because they deceive you. They start out super cute as kittens and then turn into these mature felines that have lost the entire doting quality that they once possessed.

Growing up, like most kids, I wanted a puppy. (Which I did realize would one day turn into a grown dog, however, depending on the dog it could have a different outcome than the cat situation). We never got a puppy until I was 14. By then the thrill just wasn't quite the same. Because of the threat of what would happen when the clock struck midnight on January 1, 2000, my parents bought not one, but two puppies to be our protectors: an Alaskan Husky and a German Shepard. So, they really weren't getting my brothers and me dogs, they were getting the house dogs.

Whatever the reason, the cats not being kittens or the dogs coming too late in my childhood, for some reason I don't have the wherewithal to care for anything animal or vegetable (short of silk flowers) to save my life. But, when my birthday came around last year, I mentioned to my husband that I'd like a fish tank. I've always found fish as a sort of relaxation therapy and had become obsessed with the "Wall-E" fish, as I call it. The classification of this fish is goldfish, specifically a Black Moor. They have incredibly gigantic eyes (quite similar to the Disney robot, "Wall-E").

When I said I wanted this fish I meant it in a way like, "I want it, but I know I won't take care of it, so I don't really want it, because I don't want it to die". Clearly, my husband did not read my mind, because here I am today with a 25-gallon fish tank with my very own Wall-E fish (and a "typical" goldfish in which I claim no ownership over). Or, did my husband actually read my mind? Did he know that I truly did deep down want a fish, but but even further in the depths of my secret desires wanted him to buy it for me and also care for it? And there comes the best part: I don't do a single thing but walk by every day and stare at my goofy fish. I don't even feed him. (Or her, how would you know?) Plenty enough reason to love my husband: he supplies me with a Wall-E fish that I don't have to care for. This must be love.

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