Pets. A cherished addendum to any household. Many pet owners emphatically claim that their pet is truly a member of their family. Pets get their own beds, their own toys and even their own Christmas stockings. Frankly, I think some of you take this a little too far (READ: COO COO), but that is not the point today, folks. Today, I share the reason why my family will likely lead a pet-free existence given what has happened in the past week.
Rewind to Friday, December 23; the day before Christmas Eve. My wife suggested that maybe it is time to get the kids a pet. Due to some serious allergies to dogs and cats, the options were limited and so she suggested we try a fish.
OK, sounds easy enough. A contained, non-hair shedding animal that does not bark, bite or cost a lot of money. I can get on board with one.
“Sounds good, hon. I’ll run out today and take care of it so the kids will have it for Christmas morning.”
And off I go to one of the 5,000 pet stores, not sure which (PetCo? PetSmart?, PetEdge?, Pet & Wild?, Pet Offensive?, Benny & the Pets, Ready, Pet, GO? Pet It Be?, Place Your Pets!?, Heavy Petting?, Don’t Pet Me Down? Live and Pet Be?, Pet Him to the Greek?, ....ok…you get it).
Walk into the store with a very clear mission in mind: quickly identify the simplest, user-friendly fish available. I track down one of the store workers and ask for her help.
“Hi, I am looking for the super basic, easy to take care of fish. It is our first fish and 3 small kids will be trying to take care of it. What do ya got?”
Inside of ten minutes I had a fish – a “Beta” – a tank, food, chemicals and was at the register. Perfect. Mission accomplished. Maybe this will be as easy as it seems?
Safely arrive home. Kids at school. Wife at work. My initial thought was to assemble the tank and get our new friend acclimated to his new home. Open up the box with the tank and all its parts. Pull out the instructions. Oh boy. Little more confusing than I thought. No problem, we will tackle this project later.
So I did what, I thought, any new responsible pet owner would do; I locked him in the dark, cold basement and threw some food in his tank. A few “shakes” (a critical detail of this story) of fish food and I was off to my next errand that day.
Fast forward to dinner time. Everyone home. I whisper to my wife, “I got the fish! Should be all set. We have to set up the tank and then we’re good to go. He is down in the basement so the kids don’t find him before Christmas.”
She applauded my efforts and we carefully snuck down to the cellar so I could make the proper introduction to “Fish” (yeah, no name yet – that’s the kids’ job).
Yep, he’s dead.
After nearly 7 full ours of ownership, our first family pet was gone forever.
While I can not be sure, I am fairly confident that our new addition was murdered.
Well, more like suicide.
A frantic Amy panics and asked me EXACTLY what I did?
“Nothing! I brought him home. Fed him and….”
“How much did you feed him?” she interrupted.
“I don’t know. A few shakes. Not much. Why?”
Apparently these fish only require 3 to 4 PELLETS of food per day. So, my “shake” might have caused our new buddy to take his own life like the ‘Gluttony’ guy from that movie Seven.
Oops. My bad.
OK, time for Plan B.
My idea…we assemble the tank and give it to the kids empty of any fish.
My logic…let them pick out their own pet!
Perfect, right? After about 15 minutes of being berated for my lack of direction-reading, my wife conceded to my idea and agreed this would play well to the kiddos.
Christmas arrives. Kids are very excited about their gifts, especially the new tank where their first pet would reside.
Bravo, Daddy. A well laid plan.
Day after Christmas, I pack up the little ones to head off to the neighborhood pet store (key word being ‘neighborhood’, as you will learn).
Arrive at store and I know EXACTLY what to buy. I lead them to Beta fish section, they make their selection and we are headed home. Once again, an easy purchasing process.
The ‘new’ first pet, safely captive inside a small plastic container, is placed inside my cup holder and we head back home….less than one mile away.
And then…
As we worked our way back to Fish Headquarters I made a call to relay the news to Mom that we had a NEW, NEW pet on route. I glance down to peak at my pal…..Sweet Mother of God…there was a CRACK in the container. Water rapidly leaking into my car and our friend of 11 whole minutes gasping his last breaths
Have I actually murdered two innocent animals inside of 48 hours?
Images of PETA, MSPCA, PAWS and every other animal rights group chasing me like an angry mob flood (no pun intended) my brain.
No time to panic. I hit the gas as the race against time begins.
STAY AWAY FROM THE LIGHT, MAN! WE ARE ALMOST HOME!
Driving like a Columbian drug lord headed for the border I endanger everyone in my path, especially my own children. Pull in the driveway. The fish is now squirming around in the equivalent amount of water as a tear.
Car still running, kids still buckled, I run my little guy in the house. Throw him in that tank and pray for the best.
I am pleased to report that ‘Gil’ is alive and well (Day 9 and counting) today.
That said, I highly suggest that none of you ever ask me to pet sit anytime soon.
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