Death Strikes Home
I came home yesterday and watched the fish swim in my 45 gallon tank. I searched for all the fish, and I knew that some were hiding in the hollow plastic rock thing I bought. I didn't notice anything wrong, and then I walked away. I peered at the filter which appeared to have a low intake. I let it slide, and figured, sometimes the water just doesn't filter through fast enough. I let it go.
I checked the filter.
And found Tiny Tim, the smallest fish of them all, curled up, stuck in the filter.
Don't get me wrong, he's expendable, I'm not weeping horribly over this loss. It sucks, yes, but to find him in this horrid death, sucked into a candy cane shaped black tube to be met by a propellor and stuck there is a pretty shitty way to die. I mean, my bad, I didn't put the cap on the tube that may have saved his tiny silver and black body from death. Oh crickey. Into the toilet you go.
Maybe I didn't pay enough attention. Maybe I didn't think to look hard enough or didn't care to put the cap on the tube that would have caught any fish.
Sigh.
Well, he's now with Neptune. Swirling away in the big toilet in the sky.
Voodoo
PS: The new banner okay?
Wednesday, August 15, 2001
I like long walks, especially when they're taken by people who annoy me. ~Fred Allen
Voodoo is del.icio.us
If I haven't already said it, thanks for stopping by.
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