Bob the Betta

     Jared and I have been married for approximately 1 year and 25 days and 13 hours. Each of these days and hours have continued to become even more wonderful. To give our lives a little more purpose about 11 months ago we decided to buy a Betta fish. As we went to the pet store it was quite difficult to choose a tank, the color of aquarium gravel, the underwater plastic plant that we both thought that complimented the tank and our lives. But once we saw Bob we both knew that he would complete our new little family and our decisions were made. As we brought him home to his new tank complete with a filter, 1.5 gallons of swimming potential our hearts were overcome with joy. We had just purchased our first fish and were in love. As the days flew by Jared and I would watch Bob as he swam around his personal piece of heaven. We would wake up everyday excited to watch him swim while flaring his fins and have our relationship grow with him as our witness. Life could not be any better, but one day, unexpectedly, he died. 

        His death was an untimely death. It happened one day when I had just gotten home from a day filled of school and work. I was absent-mindlessly chatting with Jared on the phone as I walked in the door. Naturally, the first thing I did was look in Bob's tank to feed him his dinner. I saw him half floating, half sinking near the top of his tank. His mouth was covered with foam like bubbles. Every few seconds he would struggle to the surface where he would gasp for air. I freaked out. Luckily Jared was on break from work and was able to talk me through my hyperventilating. We decided to quarantine Bob in a separate bowl hoping this would help or give him some solidarity for the inevitable. When I put him in his small bowl he almost seemed relieved. A second later he had a spasm attack. I have never seen a fish swim so fast and so frenzied. It was almost like demons had taken his soul.  Then a second later he stopped moving all together, gasped for a hard earned breath of air and lay still and suspended in mid-bowl. At this moment I thought he had passed on and lovingly stroked his bowl. The moment I lay fingers on his bowl he had another frenzied spasm attack. It was like he has trying to hold on, to tell me he loved me. As the spasm attack ended he started to sink. He was truly "bobbing" and I knew he was gone.
        While I was trying to hold back my tears, I called Jared. At first he wouldn't believe me. He was convinced Bob would come back to life.  I knew it would take us both time to truly accept the fact that Bob would be out of our lives forever. Throughout the rest of the evening I tried to go about my wifely duties but found it hard to move. My eyes kept meandering to Bob's empty tank. It was a long and lonely evening. When Jared came home from work we had a somber funeral where we flushed Bob down the porcelain throne that leads to fish heaven. Bob, we love you!
      Not that Bob will ever be replaced, but we now have two African-Dwarf frogs living in Bob's old tank. We named them Fred and Fat Joe. They are fully aquatic frogs with more personality that the typical comedian. Together they are helping our hearts heal and bringing happiness to our daily lives.