This is George Bailey.
I wish the story of his life (or at least his suicide attempt) had as happy an ending as that of his namesake.
George joined our household following a fish-themed baby shower I was helping to throw. The kids and I set out to find goldfish to use as table decorations. We bought 8 for good measure, figuring a sufficient number of these ought to survive the next 24 hours until the shower. (PS Brooklyn kept asking if the goldfish were taking a shower. Then she said, "And they will get out and get a little towel! That will be so CUTE!" I figured out that when she heard we were getting them for a "shower" she took it literally.) Anyway, so we picked out the fish. The lady who was helping us pointed out this little guy to my girls and commented that he looks a little like Nemo. Little did she know her words would turn out to be prophetic.
Kate immediately became attached to this one (since he was easiest to distinguish from his fellows due to the white marks) and christened him George Bailey. (They both love the movie It's a Wonderful Life. Not sure why. I was kind of turned off by all black-and-white movies as a kid. They watch it all the time, Christmas or not, and even quote it.) Of the eight original fish, four of them made it to the shower. Two of them made it back home again. And one of those survived the next night. Luckily, it was George Bailey.
A few days later, I woke up and Travis came in the room and said, "We have a mystery on our hands." The Agatha Christie-lover in me perked up and I asked for details.
"George Bailey is MISSING."
What? How does a fish go missing? He lives in 500 cubic inches. My mind was reeling with possibilities ranging from a raccoon break-in to one of my daughters taking their pet to bed. I remembered seeing frisky little George doing a few stunts around his bowl the night before, so I told Travis to look all around the bowl. Maybe he jumped out? He said there was no sign of him, but went back to investigate again.
I know you are on the edge of your seat.
Finally the mystery was solved. Travis discovered the body at the bottom of the drain in the sink. George Bailey had jumped out of his bowl, into the sink, and down the drain. We were shocked because this was no small feat. To clear the edge of the bowl was one thing, but it was not sitting directly above the sink. It was at least a foot to the side. And another foot above the countertop. I have no idea what he was trying to do. All I could conclude was that, like Nemo, he figured all drains lead to the ocean.
Or, like George Bailey, he was fed up with his miserable life and decided to end it all, by jumping out of the water instead of into it.
My girls were a bit traumatized and very sad at the loss of George (unlike with the 7 to go before him) but they are moving on. May he rest in peace. And, we hope, he has finally found his ocean.
I wish the story of his life (or at least his suicide attempt) had as happy an ending as that of his namesake.
George joined our household following a fish-themed baby shower I was helping to throw. The kids and I set out to find goldfish to use as table decorations. We bought 8 for good measure, figuring a sufficient number of these ought to survive the next 24 hours until the shower. (PS Brooklyn kept asking if the goldfish were taking a shower. Then she said, "And they will get out and get a little towel! That will be so CUTE!" I figured out that when she heard we were getting them for a "shower" she took it literally.) Anyway, so we picked out the fish. The lady who was helping us pointed out this little guy to my girls and commented that he looks a little like Nemo. Little did she know her words would turn out to be prophetic.
Kate immediately became attached to this one (since he was easiest to distinguish from his fellows due to the white marks) and christened him George Bailey. (They both love the movie It's a Wonderful Life. Not sure why. I was kind of turned off by all black-and-white movies as a kid. They watch it all the time, Christmas or not, and even quote it.) Of the eight original fish, four of them made it to the shower. Two of them made it back home again. And one of those survived the next night. Luckily, it was George Bailey.
A few days later, I woke up and Travis came in the room and said, "We have a mystery on our hands." The Agatha Christie-lover in me perked up and I asked for details.
"George Bailey is MISSING."
What? How does a fish go missing? He lives in 500 cubic inches. My mind was reeling with possibilities ranging from a raccoon break-in to one of my daughters taking their pet to bed. I remembered seeing frisky little George doing a few stunts around his bowl the night before, so I told Travis to look all around the bowl. Maybe he jumped out? He said there was no sign of him, but went back to investigate again.
I know you are on the edge of your seat.
Finally the mystery was solved. Travis discovered the body at the bottom of the drain in the sink. George Bailey had jumped out of his bowl, into the sink, and down the drain. We were shocked because this was no small feat. To clear the edge of the bowl was one thing, but it was not sitting directly above the sink. It was at least a foot to the side. And another foot above the countertop. I have no idea what he was trying to do. All I could conclude was that, like Nemo, he figured all drains lead to the ocean.
Or, like George Bailey, he was fed up with his miserable life and decided to end it all, by jumping out of the water instead of into it.
My girls were a bit traumatized and very sad at the loss of George (unlike with the 7 to go before him) but they are moving on. May he rest in peace. And, we hope, he has finally found his ocean.
6 sweet nothings:
So sad, but kinda funny. :) Fish are how Trenton learned about death. He asked a million questions and got the full low down at three. When Jacob's frog died a few years later he sat him down and shared with him the Trenton version of the life beyond. It was so cute.
cute, the girls will remember fish george when they are older. I lost a a puppy, 2day old, he actually died in my bed next to me. I fell asleep and the puppy died so sad but cute. I swear I did not suffocate him by rolling over. he just died. ;)
Don't know what it was that told me to click on your blog tonight- I've been on the computer finding singing ideas for primary. But seriously, just minutes ago Spencer came upstairs to get me. He brought me downstairs and shows me our fish- dead- in the sink. It's a long story, but Spencer moved him into a big dessert bowl (cause he was being naughty and taunting the new fish SPencer and the girls picked up today). Spencer was trying to find something to cover the bowl with (so he wouldn't jump out). I assured Spencer he wouldn't jump out- telling him about YOUR fish that lives in an uncovered bowl!! HA!! The irony!!!!
We have a goldfish that color (white and orange). He's been with us a year in April. I'm so proud that I can keep a fish a live. Truth be told, we got two: Harry and Lloyd.( No, we didn't name them posthumously.) Lloyd only made it about six months, likely because I underfed them. Oops. But Harry is still here!
I was hoping he was going to be alive in the drain. Poor little fish.
I am applauding this post. Because it was just so pleasantly entertaining. And Brooklyn's understanding of a shower is wonderful.
I had a fish that made it to the drain. And lived to tell the tale. He lost vision in one of his eyes and swam on his side for a couple hours. His name was Steve and after that, the lucky guy was called "one eyed steve".
who knew fish were so fun?
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