Metaphish
I took up fish as pets when I lived alone and got into the hobby more when we moved to Midtown, where our house had a pond. I raised a koi named Moby and a dozen or more goldfish, some of which grew to as much as a pound. It became a miniature Japanese garden, with a bonsai bald cypress, dwarf bamboo and such.
For a year or so, I had a small fan-tail goldfish that I kept in a tank indoors. I named it Hope and two years ago put "her" out in the pond with the others because she had outgrown the tank. She held her own against the other fish, even though smaller and laughingly slow by staying out of the way. She could go weeks, particularly in the winter, without being seen, but it was fun to bring Debbie outside and show her that Hope was still alive.
The buyers of our house couldn't manage the fish, so I've arranged for all but one to be adopted. Hope though, I rescued in a bucket brought her to Decatur where I put her in a small pond on the patio. For the first week, she lay on her side against the quiet throb of the water pump and rarely moved. On a guess, I sought out another fan-tail goldfish that was about her size, named her Grace and brought her home. In minutes, they were both side-by-side back near the pump.
I've added some water hyacinth, sea fern and a few pets of their own and now Hope and Grace seem right at home. Chaucer would have the literary sense to have a moral to such a story as this, but it is just a little bit of, and perhaps about, life.
For a year or so, I had a small fan-tail goldfish that I kept in a tank indoors. I named it Hope and two years ago put "her" out in the pond with the others because she had outgrown the tank. She held her own against the other fish, even though smaller and laughingly slow by staying out of the way. She could go weeks, particularly in the winter, without being seen, but it was fun to bring Debbie outside and show her that Hope was still alive.
The buyers of our house couldn't manage the fish, so I've arranged for all but one to be adopted. Hope though, I rescued in a bucket brought her to Decatur where I put her in a small pond on the patio. For the first week, she lay on her side against the quiet throb of the water pump and rarely moved. On a guess, I sought out another fan-tail goldfish that was about her size, named her Grace and brought her home. In minutes, they were both side-by-side back near the pump.
I've added some water hyacinth, sea fern and a few pets of their own and now Hope and Grace seem right at home. Chaucer would have the literary sense to have a moral to such a story as this, but it is just a little bit of, and perhaps about, life.
