I’ve had a couple really kickass days, but I think I’ll save writing about those until tomorrow.
Last night we came home from my birthday dinner, and I went to check mail and things, and Michael turned on the light in Munch‘s fishtank. He called to me and said he “wasn’t sure Munch would make it through the night.” Eak! What?!
I came downstairs and looked into Munch’s tank, alas, he was not looking good, lurking near the bottom of the tank and looking all pale. Munch %(!!!
So I was sad. Since he’s come down with pop eye, Michael’s done a lot of work to keep his tank clean, even buying new food that wouldn’t leave the mess in the water like the old food. And we bought him medicine that we’d been putting in the water to treat it. Apparently it didn’t work, the pop eye infection got worse.
I went to bed and had dreams that I’d wake up and Munch would be all better.
When I got up this morning he was inside his castle, laying on his side, dead. He swam into his castle to die, that was the really what really made me start to cry.
So I dug a hole for him this morning before work, and we buried him in our back yard. I cried of course, and was about 15 minutes late for work, but they understood. Unfortunately the first thing I was asked upon arriving at work was: “How was your birthday sushi last night?”
I spent the day trying to reconcile my emotions. I’m hurt that my little fish Munch died, but I so guiltlessly ate a bunch of different fish last night. I mentioned it to Michael and we decided that life as an intelligent omnivore is cruel.