It is with a heavy heart that I must report that Sherman, one of my Siamese fighting fish, has passed on. As you may remember both Sherman and my other fish, Mr. Peabody, become enraged by certain types of colorful lights and will beat themselves against the side of their tanks attempting to reach the light and destroy it. As I explained in a previous post, the TV seems to have been the problem in the past which is why I moved it into my bedroom, even though the bedroom is pretty small and I don’t really like watching TV in bed (though many Splettsterinos clearly do and more power to them! Diff’rent Strokes! (By the way, why did they replace the “e” with an apostrophe in the title of the TV show? If you know or “have a theory,” e-mail me at email@example.com.))
That paragraph was getting pretty long so I’m going to start a new one. Usually when I leave the house, I close the curtains in the living room so that Sherman and Mr. Peabody won’t see anything out the window that might infuriate them and cause them to smash themselves into the side of the tank.
(Do you like analogies? I can take them or leave them but I sometimes wonder if the glass walls of the fish tank are to a fish like God is to us. Both are invisible; both prevent us from going where we want to go and doing what we want to do.)
Anyway, this morning I forgot to close the curtains and when I came home, Sherman was floating belly up and beginning to decay. There’s no point in trying to revive a fish when they’re in that condition. I can’t say for certain that the open curtains were to blame but I did see a colorful yellow rental truck from Hertz driving past as I was leaving and I thought to myself, “That’s just the kind of moving colored object that would drive Sherman and Mr. Peabody crazy.”
To anticipate your next question, I don’t blame Hertz for killing Sherman and I don’t plan to sue them. I wouldn’t mind an upgrade to a full-size vehicle the next time I rent a car, though
To anticipate the question after that, I gave Sherman a “porcelain burial.” Mr. Peabody seems to still be in the first of Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ five stages of grief: denial. Will I get another fish? I think it’s a little soon to be hypothetically asking that!