Friday, November 20, 2009

Goldfish.

Parker's goldfish Daffodil is dying. This is not good for an OCD thinker such as myself. I'm sitting here wondering how she's doing. Is she in pain? What is she thinking? Is she aware how bad she stinks? Is she pissed she's not as shiny as she used to be?

It probably doesn't help that I tapped on her tank a few hundred times asking, "Daffy? You okay, Bud? You alright in there? DAFFY!?" If she could talk, she'd probably say, "Fuck off with your tapping and staring already. I'm trying to die in peace, bitch."

I can barely eat knowing she's suffering just on the other side of wall. My appetite is gone from that "death smell" that's hanging in the air. Well, maybe just a couple more Pringles. It's not like Daff would eat them anyway. She's not even eating her food shavings.

Now what? How long does this go on? I can't handle the lingering death vibe that's reverberating throughout our house. I refuse to flush her down before her time is up. That's just not right.

But could I put her bowl in the basement until the big event happens to clear the air out a little bit? Is that cruel?

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