I never thought Jacques would come to mean much to me. I never really had a desire for a fish; I bought him on a whim. He wasn't the prettiest beta, more of a dull pink than a vibrant blue or red. He almost never became mine. I was interested in a small sapphire blue female when the swish of his tail caught my eye. I grabbed his plastic cup and he immediately proceeded to throw himself against the edge of his container like he was having a seizure. He was a psychotic fish. I knew he belonged with me.
I bought him a few plastic plants and an octopus holding a sign reading, "No Fishing." The first few days were a bit strenuous. I learned betas can puff out their necks much like a frilled lizard or cobra snake. He didn't like light, fingers, or pencils. He puffed up at them all. After a while, we got used to each other. Last year, while I sat at my computer working on homework, I could look out of the corner of my eye and see Jacques watching me. It was as much comfort as a fish can offer.
As I was preparing for bed this evening, I went to tell Jacques goodnight. I tapped on his bowl as I often do. He was sitting on the pebbles at the bottom as he often does. Tap. Tap. Tap. Slowly, his body floated to the top of the water. His fins were still, eyes glazed over.
He had already survived two nearly fatal accidents. Our cat at home tipped over his travel cup, then pounced on him, and as I was preparing him for his journey back to school, I poured him down the sink. Luckily, he got caught in the drain. I was so shocked tonight to see his spunk had finally run out.
Jacques is gone now. I can only hope, gone to a better place where the bowls are bigger and there are no pencils or sinks or cats. I feel guilty about his passing. I don't think he knows I did become fond of him. Lately I've been spending much more time with the newsroom fish. The newsroom is where I do my homework now. Jacques had no one to connect with. I left him with only Ollie his octopus for company. I was busy, but I didn't forget.
I never thought Jacques would come to mean much to me. He was just a fish after all, something I could never envision myself becoming attached to. But over time he wasn't just a fish to me. He was my first fish, my big-lipped study buddy. He was a comfort. I'll miss seeing him perk up when I tap his bowl. I'll miss him watching me work.
Jacques was a good fish. Slightly neurotic perhaps, but that made him all the more endearing. All future aquatic pets shall be judged against him.
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2 comments:
I only met Jacques a couple of times so I haven't much to say about his life, but I understand the bond between a girl and her beta. Jacques, like my Diego, was your first friend at college and for that he should be honored. I hope he has found peace...perhaps with Radar, another psychotic fish who has perished.
I had a beta once...Kung Fu Joe Junior. He was great until he became anorexic and eventually swam upside down. He was my first out-on-my-own-grown-up pet and my first indication that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't really the pet person I thought myself to be. He survived constant assaults by my roommate's cats and succumbed to a disease normally relegated to super models and wannabe Hollywood starlets. He is still missed.
To betas everywhere whose lives are too short and attitudes too big for the small bowls which they inhabit.
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