Don Diego de la Vega

Diego is my fish. I got him the week before I left for college. He is a beautiful little betta. I realize that bettas are from Asia, but I think Diego is part Hispanic. I speak Spanish (and a little Italian) to him and I'm pretty sure he understands. Take today for instance. Every other week I clean his bowl. When I do this he usually fights me because as a fighting fish it is in his very nature. I, being the motherly person that I am, told him "Vai! Vai!" (Go! Go!) as I was pouring out the bowl and trying to get him to go into his travel container. It's a very difficult process because I have to try to pour out most of the dirty water. Then, at the last possible second, maneuver his travel container with my free hand under the pouring water and plop him in. Diego, however, likes to swim against the water and usually ends up laying there on his little pebbles gasping for air. Silly fish! Then I must dump the bowl over to get him in the water. At this point, the travel container is no longer full of clean water, but dirty water, dirty pebbles, and a dirty (yet satisfied) fish. This time, however, I told him to "Vai! Vai!" and he did with minimal dirty water getting into his travel container. I was so proud. I'm sure he did this just to avoid hearing "Aye Dios mio," or the Spanish equivalent of SOB for the hunderth time. What a smart little fish I have!