Bob was a carnival goldfish.
We put him in a glass bowl that I had bought for decoration. The bowl was HUGE and we watched him swim in circles getting biGGer and SMaLLer as he swam around and around, side to side looking for the nearest exit.
Our family had fun for a couple of days with the expectation that he would not survive.
The novelty wore off and the kids went on with their lives leaving Bob on the dining room table to fend for himself. We did nothing to encourage his growth, we (I) fed him when I remembered to, I changed his water only when I couldn't find him in the clouds anymore...and every time I did these things I mumbled to myself "What the Heck? How can you still be alive?"
Carnival fish are the toughest, longest lasting Goldfish..the Survivors!
3 years into Bob's life Sam and I decided that if Bob was going to be a survivor, he at least deserved a roomy.. a friend. We weren't really sure what would happen because of Bob's innate survival skills, so we picked the smartest looking fish in the tank and brought him home. His name was Orv (short for hors d'oeuvres.... just in case...you know....I'm a realist).
He made it..
Bob The Dominant, claimed his feeding rights, but only with the free-floating-food. Orv waited. It was more fun to watch them now that there was a relationship to follow. On occasion I would come down the steps to find one or the other lying on the floor next to the 4.5 foot tall pillar that I had moved their bowl to. I didn't ask...they would only deny it anyway.
Orv was second in command. He was a survivor too. Orv lived beyond Bob's passing but never forgot his buddy Bob. He took flowers to the gravesite and burned incense on his birthd......
(BwaAh ha ha Chuckle Snort...sorry this is getting way too silly, I can't keep it up)...
Feel free to share Bob's story.