The Seares: One Fish, Two Fish. Red Fish, Dead Fish.

Since our apartment place dashed all our dreams of having a Yorkie puppy Jeff and I decided we would get ourselves a fish. The next best thing right??
As we were perusing the fish aisle picking out the golden child a couple just happened to walk by with, you're never going to guess! A 3 month old Yorkie puppy! I saw the light go right out of my poor babes eyes. We sat and talked to the couple and admired their little Ruby? Rosco? Trudy? I can't remember, what's important is that we wanted one, we wanted one bad! We spent a good couple minutes wallowing in our self pity while still standing and gazing at the wall of fish tanks in front of us before we each finally picked one. His and hers fish. Yeah we are cute like that.
After the man in the store gave us a 30 minute lecture about how to care for goldfish we were finally free and booked it out of the store with our 2 new fishies and all in one goldfish starter kit bowl.
Pierre and Belle (Pierre is mine and Belle Jeff's) were right at home in their new bowl and we sat and watched them swim for quite a while before I grew tired of them and moved on. Jeff however was very concerned and was watching the two. He said Pierre was chasing and "pecking" at Belle. Pecking? Okaaay.

THE NEXT MORNING

Wake up Sunday morning feeling good, go right out to check on the fish before I get in the shower and get ready for church. Belle is clinging for life laying at the bottom of the bowl. Are you kidding me?? It's been like 8 hours. Jeff is all upset and I'm just downright annoyed. It's a goldfish. Should not be that hard. Go to church and come home again only to find Belle, well belly up at the top of the bowl. Jeff automatically blames the whole thing on my fish. So not fair. Either way I am still annoyed. I start dinner and Jeff watched Pierre who is now constantly at the top of the bowl. He sits up there with his puckery little fish lips out of the water like he's gasping for air. ( I know people, fish breathe with their gills) but Jeff and I would both swear he is up there for air. We get worried, get rid of some of the plants, chlorinate the water, google 'why goldfish stay at the top of the bowl', change the water, dump some water out, etc. Nothing, he still stays at the top of the bowl. I get bored of him again and busy myself with other things while Jeff is still stewing over the whole mess.

8 HOURS LATER

I got up early Monday morning to finish Jeff's ice cream cake and get ready for my early orientation at the hospital, walk out to the fish bowl. Pierre is belly up. Seriously?
2 fish casualties in 24 hours. I think it's safe to say we are not fish people. I don't know what we did or didn't do but it was just not happening for us. We tried but I think we're just going to return the bowl and forget the whole thing ever happened. haha

Speaking of the bowl, it continued to sit on top of the bookshelf, with the dead belly up fish in it slowly decaying until today (Tuesday) when I couldn't stomach to walk past it one more time. I put on my rubber gloves and took the bowl to the toilet. I scooped the dead little fishy out of the bowl, all the while dry heaving from the looks and smells of it and flushed it down the toilet. The smell. Oh my goodness the smell was awful. More awful than anything I have smelled before in the hospital, I quickly dumped all the water out and relocated the bowl to the front porch. My poor sweet husband will have to dispose of it when he gets home cause I will not be able to keep my dinner down if I have to smell or look or touch that thing again, and I do not have a weak stomach. Yuck.