Funeral for a Friend

Shit man, household pets are dropping like flies over here at HQ. We're losing 'em literally and figuratively. Stripey the goldfish has gone to the big koi pond in the sky. And unlike Rhino the hamster, he actually DID have a good life. If you're a new kid, you can go down there on the left to the "Blog Archive" to learn more about Rhino. Don't wanna bore the rest of the class. He's kinda been discussed ad nauseum. That's Latin for, "I'm gonna barf if I hear one more thing about that freakin' hamster". Loosely translated. Anyway, Stripey. About seven years ago, Dave and I went to a "Caribbean" themed party at the club. In the middle of each table at this party? A bowl of goldfish. First of all, although I am clearly not a marine biologist, I am fairly certain that the common goldfish is not indigenous to Caribbean waters. Something about the salt. The prevailing logic was probably that we'd all be too drunk to notice and would think that the goldfish were actually right tropical! Well, I noticed. Shocker. Secondly, the whole "living creature as centerpiece" thing is somewhat disrespectful of life. 'Cause you KNOW after they amused us as we noshed on our conch fritters and chugged our Bahama Mama's they were heading straight down the crapper. Somehow I couldn't envision the wait staff patiently strapping the tiny bowls into the seat belts of their passenger seats and lovingly transporting them to a better life when the party was over. So, to make a long story short (or less long anyway), we ended up stumbling home (we lived within spitting distance of the club at that point), each carrying a sloshing goldfish bowl. It's a miracle they didn't end up in the middle of the road, gasping for breath.......the toilet would be a far more humane death. But they did make it home. Seven years and a 25 gallon aquarium later, Stripey, having grown to a staggering 8 inches, has met his maker. His buddy Goldilocks died a few years back. I went in to get something out of Jack's room yesterday morning and he was listing in that "Ooooohhhh....that's not good" fashion. He fought the good fight until last night when he cashed in his little fishy chips. Haha.....fish 'n chips. So anyway, at present, there is a fucking carp in a bag on my deck awaiting burial as something that size is not going down the toilet. See, Stripe? Even in death I had your back.....errrr.....fin. You're welcome pal. You were a good fish. Catch ya on the flip-side.