R.I.P. Swim

Our carnie fish, Swim, took the eternal flush today. All jokes aside, we were sad to see him go.

I knew something was wrong when he didn’t happily devour his breakfast this morning as he usually did. Instead, he lay on the rocks at the bottom, breathing, but not responsive to my taps on the side of his bowl. A couple hours later I found him and my heart sank. Not only because this silly little fish that I had actually grown to love caring for was gone, but also because I knew our little girl had just lost her first pet.

I called up to Dave and he broke the news to Kate. They both came down. Her eyes welled up with tears the moment she saw him. Sobbing. She needed hugs and comforting.

After all the loves, the burial. Dave explained that fish liked to be buried in water instead of the ground and that’s why we would bury him in the toilet. The dad said a few nice words, the mom said some too, but when the sister started in it was hard not to cry. I can’t remember all that she said, and truthfully, through her tears it was hard to understand all that was said. But she did say he was the best pet she could ever have and that she was going to miss him.

And we will. I’ll miss Cole pointing at him and cheering, “Fish! Fish! Fish!”  And Kate talking to him like a real person, telling him random 4-year-old tidbits. Who knew a carnival fish could live so long, and furthermore, create such a soft, little place in our hearts? Kate put it best when she said, “I still feel like he lives in me.” Me too, sweet Little Girl.