Fish

We are not really pet people.  By we, I actually mean me.  I'm all for a catch-learn-release program though.  We've done that before with snakes, a turtle, and praying mantises (manti?).  To me, that's fun, novel, and short term. 

The whole 'we acquire an animal and house it for its entire life' thing doesn't appeal to me.  Fur, urine, and excrement...I can do without.  Cats make me sneeze, and we certainly are not home enough to properly care for a dog...nor would I want to.  Once I told a co-worker that I'm not a lover of dogs, and he replied with a horrified, "Do you even have a heart?!?" 

Of course, I have a heart (some days).  It just doesn't go pitter-patter for pets and the commitment that goes along with them.  This is why I have been dragging my feet for months about getting a betta for J.  He's been begging and begging for one.  I keep finding excuses to say no, but I finally caved for his seventh birthday.

He carefully selected his fish and named him Phelps.  He checked on him frequently and even talked to him.  Aww, so sweet!  I even caught myself thinking, "Maybe this fish thing won't be so bad."  And then four (four!) days later, Phelps died (died!).  Really, fish?  Four whole days?  Thankfully, J wasn't emotionally distraught and was totally content with utilizing the pet store's return policy to get a new fish, Durant. 

Here's to hoping we have a little more success with this birthday gift.

Legos are so much easier.