29 June 2011

My goldfish is such a character. There he was in the pet store, a lone tie-dyed fantail amongst red-cap orandas, doing his own thing; I never would have suspected. He likes to heave his body sideways over the floating plants in his bowl (a cruel enclosure, perhaps, but if you saw the crowding in the pet store...), and he doesn't blow bubble rafts, so I've decided he is a boy after all. He wiggles really fast when I walk into the room, the greeting is fantastic, and he doesn't mind the cat using his bowl as a water feature to drink from and play in, which is also fortunate. What's more relaxing to look at than a goldfish? Someone take me to The Brickyard so I can drink Buffalo Trace on special and look at the entire room of goldfish around the bar.

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