2005-05-26 - 8:55 p.m.
A Tribute
Reg was a good fish. He was the best fish. He was a beautiful blue, red and teal betta, and he was my bestest buddy. I brought him home around Chanukah of 2002; I remember that when I named him, he wiggled as if he liked it. I had read all kinds of stuff about betta care, and he got the best I could give him. I used to come home and turn on the light, and he would start flipping around like a crazy fish, like he was happy to see me.
He went with me to grad school, and how he made it through that grueling trip in the summer, I’ll never know. He lost all his color, but once we were in Syracuse and he was back in his bowl, he was just fine. He came home with me for winter break, too, and managed to stay up even though the car got pretty cold. At the end of the school year, he went back to Baltimore with me, and Mom took care of him while I got my shit together. Then I brought him to New York, and he was still the greatest bit of décor I had, still excited to see me. I would rub the side of his bowl and he would swim to my hand. I would reach for the food and he would get so flippy, knowing what was coming.
But he was deteriorating. He wasn’t as active as he had been. Back in December, he started having problems. I would feed him the way I usually did, but it was too much, and he had trouble swimming. But still, he hung on. Then in the past couple of weeks, he stopped swimming around as much. He spent more time on the bottom of his bowl than usual. He didn’t eat when I dropped food in his bowl. When I came home on Monday evening, he was barely moving. I knew it would be over soon. And when I got home on Tuesday, it was. I had no place to bury him, and I didn’t want to flush him, so I put him in his special Tupperware (the one I transported him in, the one he sat in when I changed the water in his bowl) and put him out. Reg was gone. Two and a half years is a long time for a betta, and I’m glad he lived as long as he did. He wouldn’t have survived the move to my new place, so it’s better that he’s gone now.
Reg. Reggie. Regger. Reginald. Buddy. Fish. I couldn’t pet him, and he didn’t bark or shed or cry, but he was a great pet. And I will miss him. Poor little guy. Now he’s… sleeping with the fishes. Heh.
