Fish in a Bucket I love animals. I really do. I s…

August 17, 2006

Fish in a Bucket

I love animals. I really do. I suppose that fish aren’t technically considered animals, but you get my drift. (I also inherited a California King Snake last year — another non-animal — and I love her enough to have gotten over my repulsion at feeding her live mice. Jon tells me that mice are crazy, anyway, so I’ve worked hard to stop feeling sorry for the little suckers.)

Since I was little, I’ve been rescuing animals — mostly dogs and puppies, a couple of baby bunnies and a bird or two along the way. Now, I am nowhere near the saint that some wonderful people are who run rescue and adoption organizations, volunteer at shelters, etc. I just try to do my part when I see an animal in need.

(Not that my dear and loving husband is helping my Mother Teresa complex any by banishing the cat that I almost named, but that’s for a different blog topic, not this one. I keep promising, I know. Get used to it. He almost has. And that reference has to do with cleaning the dishes, Curious Georges that you are. Don’t read more into it than is there!)

Apparently, my husband decided to rescue our poor fish Bonnie from the Bucket where she lives half the month. Here’s how pathetic my life is: rather than move Bonnie into a glass the way my aunt does, I just move her–I’m assuming it’s a her, who really knows with fish?–into my handy-dandy green bucket.

The idea is to move her right back after I’ve finished cleaning her bowl, but what with life being the way it is, she usually ends up on the floor in the kitchen for a week or so — sometimes two.

I have scarily justified this by filling the water higher in the bucket than it is in her fishbowl and telling myself that she must like being in the bucket because she has more room to swim. Crazy the things I tell myself because I am overwhelmed, lazy or just too damn tired to move the fish.

So Jon, in his infinite wisdom and kindness, decided that I and the fish needed a break. Last night when I came home from work there was a big present wrapped and waiting in the kitchen. I’m not sure which of the three of us (my daughter, Jon or I) were more excited when I opened it and found this fabulously beautiful fish tank. Even though I am now 36 and 1 day, I still clapped my hands like a little kid.

The fish will now be rescued from the bucket and able to play with other fish. (I’m convinced that she went through a mild depression when Clyde died . . . swam around the bowl all disoriented, etc.). Now I can go and purchase her a new fish family. πŸ™‚

I’m also excited that I won’t need to worry that Smokey will advertently or inadvertently eat her up when he goes to drink out of the bucket. Anytime I can take one more thing off my “worry list,” I’m a happy girl.



  1. The part of you saying “she must like being in the bucket because she has more room to swim” just makes me laugh. I have a Beta fish called Bubbles (that I adore) and thought the same thing… “he HAS to be more comfortable with a bigger swimming area”. Well,a bigger tank, nice plants, a tiki figurine, a big “old sunken bell that he can swim through and many weird looks from my wife… I think Bubbles is satisfied and content ;-). Anyways, great gift, your fish might need some “friends” like you said- the tank is huge! Oh yes, have fun cleaning the tank πŸ˜‰

  2. πŸ™‚ Don’t remind me about the tank cleaning! I can only imagine what’s going to happen with 10 fish, me and a dirty fish tank. It might not be pretty!

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