Fire

I believe two "A" math tests in a row is what earned my 7-year old the right to become a pet owner. Upon her victory on the second "A", Madda's Daddy took her to Wal-Mart to pick out what would become the very first pet of the DeWitt house. No, they do not sell puppies and kitties at our Wal-Mart. But they do sell Betta fish, and we became the owner of one red fish. "Fire", as this fish has been dubbed, has turned out to be the most boring fish on the face of the planet. It literally does NOTHING. Regardless, we have ascribed a personality to Fire, imagining that he is very disgruntled and generally dissatisfied with his surroundings. We assume that this fish is in its tiny tank, day dreaming of a life better than the one provided by The DeWitt Five.

Madeline probably took care of this fish for approximately two days before I was left in charge of the angry little thing. Therefore since October, when the fish became a member of the family, I have been feeding it and changing its water. Our children care so little about this fish that I once suggested that we might get a more interesting pet like a dog or a cat, and Madeline was on board with flushing it down the toilet....while still alive. Since I'm fairly certain that flushing a live fish down the toilet does not send the right message to my kids, we (I) continue to maintain this silly fish.

This past Saturday, Fire was again in need of a change of water and its true owner (Madeline) volunteered to help with the task. Therefore, I grabbed the net and the fresh water and enlisted the help of my daughter in taking care of her fish. I assisted Madda in holding the net as I poured the contents of Fire's little tank through the green grid of fabric inside. As she held the net over the sink, I quickly washed and refilled Fire's castle with fresh, clean water. I instructed Madeline to let me assist her in placing Fire back into his tank, as the opening for the fish bowl is comparable to the opening in the net, making for a precarious situation when trying to dump the damn fish back into its home. Unfortunately, as we stood over the sink, she shook the net one way and I shook it another. Fire's flopping body lunged from the net and landed squarely in the middle of the drain. Yes, the one which houses the garbage disposal below. I immediately starting screaming, "It's in the drain, it's in the drain!" Jason looks up from his task of nailing a picture hanger into the back of the picture, not far from where we stood and rushes to our rescue. He is exclaiming, "Grab a glove! Grab a flashlight!" All the while, Madeline is screaming and crying and carrying on. Although I was not surprised by her reaction, I guess I might have expected less in the way of hysterics from someone who was willing to euthanize her fish just weeks before.

As the hysterics continue, Jason heads to the sink with a flashlight in one of his gloved hands and digs through the soggy bread, apple cores, and leftover bits of cereal to retrieve the fish who nobody cares about. In the midst of this madness, I encourage the kids to come with me to check the mail...and they do, proving that they care more about what bills and credit card applications have been delivered than the life of their family pet. After I distract the kids for several minutes, we head back in the front door. When he hears the door open, Jason calls out that he has saved Fire and that he is back in his tank, safe and sound. Sighs of relief are breathed, cheers ring out. I breathed a sigh of relief mostly because I didn't wan to have to deal with the aftermath of the death of our fish and its impact on our children. Additionally, I didn't want to deal with turning on the disposal in a post-Fire world. I just know that I would have imagined his red body being mangled along with the remains of cut-up strawberries and orange peels. I'm a very visual person.

After the ordeal was settled, Madeline wondered aloud if Fire would now be happy, having narrowly escaped death. I commented that often when people cheat death, that they will find a new lease on life. Madeline then said that it was possible that Fire might be even more angry after his brush with the afterlife. I let her know that some people do indeed become even more self-destructive after a traumatic event.

This is all interesting to me because we have so personified this fish. Because Fire is truly the most boring pet in the world, our family seeks to create human-like emotions and personality to make up for it. In all likelihood, Fire will remain exactly as he was before his near-tragic accident. I'm sure however, that because we want to continue the story of our fish, that we will surely see a change in Fire. I'll let you know how it all turns out.