Little red fighting fish

A couple of weeks ago Dana and I went to some friends of ours' new house and enjoyed their house warming party. While there, I noticed they had some fish in a nicely displayed aquarium. I don't know about you, but there is nothing more relaxing than watching fish swim, and seeing an aesthetically pleasing aquarium.

I was inspired... And thus, a week later I went out and bought "Taz," my little red fighting fish. It was one of those fish that are only allowed in the tank alone as they will tear to shreds any other fish with them.

It cost me a grand total of $18.37, Canadian. They tried to get me to buy this special formula for when you clean the tank, but I politely declined, partly because it was like seven bucks, and partly because my fish's home was to be in a five gallon antique milk jar. The lady at Petland asked what kind of a set up I had for the fish, and I sheepishly said, "a bowl," as I thought the animal rights activist would be after me if they found out I shoved it in an old milk jug.

Taz was a great addition to our little place, it added some ambiance and gave me something to do after work... that is stare at it while it floated and did nothing.

A couple days ago Dana was getting after me to clean the "tank" (i.e. milk jug) and so, after some procrastination, I finally cleaned the tank.

That day we decided to go for a one day trip out to Lake Nutimik to just relax around a campfire. We got back today, and Dana reminded me to go and feed Taz. Taz likes to hang out on the bottom of the milk jug for some reason, and so it was business as usual as I walked toward it to feed the little red devil... The only difference was that he was upside down and his mouth was wide open.

"Taz": May 24, 2008 - June 1 or 2, 2008

Poor little buddy.

I guess I should have bought the $7 cleaning solution... But really, what kind of a fighter fish is that! It couldn't even handle a day of fasting and its water au natural from the tap.

And thus, I said a quick goodbye to ole' Taz as he had a proper burial down American Standard...

Perhaps I wasn't meant to be a pet owner.