Blueberry Junior

Most of you never had the privilege of meeting Blueberry Senior before he expired on Monday, September 7th, 2009 (Actually, he may have expired a few days earlier. We're really unsure. But judging from his appearance he was either Cajun fried or had been lying "in state" a couple of days before we found him!) He was a good fish. He never jumped out of the tank. He always tried to be entertaining, and he never, not one time, complained about eating only dried blood worms for every meal. Beloved pet of Master Thomas Sessions of Montgomery, Alabama. He will live on in our hearts, though his body may be in the sewer, for years to come. He is survived by his aquarium rocks and special plastic tube-thing in which he slept.

R. I. P.
BLUEBERRY
July 31st-September 7th
2009

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am one of those mothers. You know the kind...the ones who try to spare their kids from reality until they are "old enough" to handle it. Yep, that's me!

Upon climbing into bed Monday night Thomas reported that something was wrong with his fish. I asked him how he knew.

"We-e-ellll," in the slowest, most drawn-out southern he could muster, "he's not moving."

"Is he on the bottom or the top of the tank?"

"The top."

*momentary silence*

"Okay. Well, I'll check on him in a minute. You go ahead and get into the bed and go to sleep."

I waited until he looked like he might be comatose, then tiptoed over to his bookshelf where I discovered the deceased. I gently lifted the body and it's tomb and slowly turned to exit, praying that I would not trip or step on any deadly legos or micro-machine airplanes. Successfully entering the kitchen, I dumped the remains, cleaned the crud, and grabbed my purse and keys.

You see, just a few days ago, my son captured a caterpillar (no, nothing that moves and is smaller than him is safe) and put it in his butterfly cage. We took great care to feed the caterpillar grass, tomatoes fresh from the vine, enough water to thrive, but, alas, the little fella just decided he'd go on to meet his Maker instead of forming a cocoon. When we found him fully involved in rigor mortis, my sweet little boy dropped his head and buried his face in his tiny hands...tears streaming down his face. He was mourning the worm!

And Blueberry was his fish! Blueberry had been around much longer than the worm. He'd slept next to him every night. Thomas fed him and took care of him. He proudly introduced him to our company. Every day he would announce from his bedroom just how cute Blueberry was! Thomas and Blueberry were tight! If saying goodbye to the worm was that bad, we were DEFINITELY NOT going to be saying, "Sayonara," to the fish!

Praise the Lord, Petco was still open! I looked through about 35 Crowntail Betas that night until I found the one that most closely resembled Blueberry...Senior. Thankfully, no Petco employee was feeling helpful. I really did not wish to reveal my impending deceitfulness to the teenagers working the night shift. I made my purchase, drove home, replaced the fish, and repositioned the tank without even dirtying up my superhero mask or cape!

The next day Thomas informed me that I should clean Blueberry's tank more often because it made him feel GOOD! He was swimming in circles and jumping through hula-hoops...well, maybe that last part is a little bit exaggerated! ;)

Blueberry (Junior) has made the transition from the pet store pancana of betas to treasured family pet and resides in the former home of the esteemed Blueberry Senior atop the bookshelf in Thomas' bedroom.

So please, dear friends, if you stop by my house, please refer to our piscatory friend by his first name only so as not to upset the locals! And, in case you're wondering, the moral of this story is never say what you will never do for the love of your child because I have indeed become one of those parents!!!