farewell, fishy friend
after five years, almost to the day, of my little fantail coming in to my life, i came home yesterday to a passed Pong. i knew he was sick this weekend, and none of my normal tricks i play when he's feeling down seemed to work. pong had been with me through a lot, through jobs and moves and love and heartache, and every night, i knew he would be there, rearranging the rocks in his tank. in the morning, he would sit in the corner, waiting for me to start to stir. if i wasn't waking up fast enough, he'd start throwing rocks against the side of his tank. i'm not making this up; he would literally pick up the pebbles from the bottom of his tank with his mouth, and spit them out.
i will miss his little fishy face with the cloudy eyes, and his punk-rock dorsal fin, and the gasp of my friends who would comment on his sheer enormity. and i will have to see if i will be able to sleep without the steady clickclickclick of those rocks being rearranged.
current mood: sad.