Posts Tagged ‘pets’

Jack…

The Crowntail Betta fish, Jack, died this morning.  This time, I know he is gone.

I now know the difference between a sick fish and a dead fish.  What a horrible way I had to learn and I am not buying any more fish.

I had driven back to PetSmart, which didn’t do any good.

The young woman who sold him to me was there.  The first thing she said, in front of my son, was, “Let me ask you what you might have done wrong,” and she giggled, saying she knew that sounded bad.

When she learned that I had done exactly as she had instructed, she said maybe Jack was depressed and starving himself!

I couldn’t believe it.  Why would my fish be anymore depressed than any other fish if her instructions on how to care for him had been correct?

She said it may have been the real plant I used, instead of the fake one.  She sold me the real one.

She finally said maybe he was sick when I purchased him, that he would most likely die and that they would reimburse me for my expenses.

I returned home with hope for Jack.  He had started swimming a little and hadn’t lost his beautiful colors.  I gave him dried blood worms, but he wouldn’t eat.

I thought about him being depressed and starving himself.  I understood this all too well.  I stared at him and thought he must be a pretty smart guy, because that is surely one way to get out of a fish bowl.

I barely slept all night.  I had night sweats and finally got up after drying off for the fourth or fifth time.  Yesterday was a stressful day and Jack was only a part of the story, so I guess, stress did me in.

I looked in the bowl after finally giving up on sleep and knew, for sure, that he is gone.

Jack was a beautiful fish and had a lot of personality.

 

 

Update About Jack

Jack is still alive.  I can’t believe it.  I almost buried him.

Earlier today I posted on a whim, feeling quite emotional about this fish, thinking it had died.  I tagged the post pet loss, because he had become our pet and I thought we had lost him.

I took him out of the bowl and his body jumped all around.  This poor fish!  Owned by someone who can’t tell if he is dead or alive!

He is lying on the bottom of a different bowl, which I wish I hadn’t put him in because I just learned it changed his environment too quickly, but he swims a little if I stir up the water.

Now, I don’t know what to think.  Jack must be very sick.

I had no idea owning a fish could bring so many emotions.

The girl at the pet store said it would be sooo easy.

It was certainly not easy when I thought I had frozen him and then almost buried him alive.

I’m not feeling too good about it.

They say he is a great fighter fish.  I hope the little guy makes it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bye Jack…

King Crown Tail

Image by J-Joyce via Flickr

The woman at the pet store pushed him on me.  I told her I had never cared for a fish and she said they were sooo easy.  She said all they needed was a bowl, some rocks, a small plant and some food.

Well, that is total bullshit!

I was crying, but now I feel angry, which honestly is easier to feel.

Poor Jack.

I could see he was sick yesterday, but I didn’t know what to do.  My son thought he was fine, but I didn’t.

I was going to get a real tank after having gone online to discover that Jack needed at least 2 gallons of water and a few more plants.

I didn’t have time yesterday and today, when I woke up, well… He is still over there in the bowl.

I can’t believe how it hurts.  I can’t just throw him out.  I guess I’ll put him in some paper and bury him.  I guess.  I don’t know what people do with a dead fish, at least, people like me, whose heart is as tender as my little Ruthie Mae’s is.

Jack made my son smile from ear to ear.

I took my son home yesterday and I’m glad he doesn’t have to see Jack now.

I’m mad because the pet store shouldn’t sell those fish telling folks they will live in a bowl!

Then too, like everything in my life that is sad or goes wrong, I feel like it’s my fault.  I must have turned the heat down too low last night.

Poor Jack.

I wonder if I should give up my idea to give my son a fish tank.  I was thinking about just buying another Betta, with a tank, a filter and a heater of course, and not telling my son that Jack died.  I think he would know.  He’s like me.  We feel lies like we smell onions.  Clearly and strongly.

I know it’s just a fish, but I am not ashamed to say, that I will likely cry again when I go over there to get him out of that bowl.

Jack was beautiful and when we first got him, he felt great.  He would swim the very short distance to the side of the bowl and stare directly at my son every time he walked up to him.  He was an iridescent black, blue, and red fighter fish.

Honestly, I loved him.  I know my son did, or does.  Sigh…

My son doesn’t like his apartment.  He is lonely.  I thought if he could have a pet that he might like his apartment, but he hadn’t taken Jack over there yet.  He didn’t want to either.

Maybe a rabbit?

I wish we could afford another dog.  I would go to the shelter today if we could.  I’d take my son and let him get a dog that would be good to have in town.

Our older dog is my son’s dog, but he’s aggressive to other big dogs, so he stays with me.  He also has terrible seizures.  Ruthie and I take care of Tiny.  He’s been with me five years now.  He’s been our family member for ten years now, since he was a baby.

We are able to care for our two dogs because we have Care Credit.  We use it to pay for the vet visits and then we pay monthly.  It is a great credit card to have.

I wish so much my son could have a pet in his apartment.  I can’t imagine living without one, particularly a dog.  I lived without my girl Free-girl for a month and that was before my son’s dog, Tiny, came to live with me.

It was one horrible lonely month!  I would go somewhere and then realize I didn’t have a dog at home, so I wouldn’t come home.  I’d wander around like a lost child downtown.  I began helping homeless drug addicts.

I helped a few get to a recovery house, but it was not my calling in life.  I needed a dog.

Fortunately, I had a friend who had been Free’s very good friend.  She knew more than I did what I needed, which was a new dog.  She talked me into going, “just to look,” at the shelter.  I met Ruthie that day and we haven’t missed one night together.

But now, I am sad to have lost Jack.

My gut is churning and my heart hurts.  Over a fish, I know, but it is true.  I feel awful, especially because I think I may have killed him by turning the heat in the house down last night.

Normally, I try, believe it or not, to offer readers something positive in my blog posts.

In this post, I can’t do that, other than to say, Betta fish need more than a bowl!

I’m sorry Jack.  I really am sorry.  I didn’t know what to do.

Bye Jack.

We love you.

~~~~~~~~~~

About Betta fish:

Along with the fact that they need way more than a bowl of water to live in, they also need an entirely different environment than what he had, which is why I feel angry at the pet store.

“They also need a filter and heater to ensure a long life. Betta fish like warmer waters, upwards of eighty degrees, so they can not live at room temperature.”  (Source:  See Related Articles below)

Well, after reading that, I feel worse.  I did let it get too cold in the house.

Related Articles

Funny pet note

write your dogs a letter explaining the house rules! Pet lovers will love this!

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE PETS, THIS IS A TRUE STORY.

FOR THOSE THAT DON’T, IT IS A TRUE STORY.

The following was found posted very low on a refrigerator door.

Dear Dogs and Cats: The dishes on the floor with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate does not mean that is is suddenly your food, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Racing me to the top of the stairs is not the object. Tripping me doesn’t help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space that you are taking up, is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years – canine/feline attendance is not required.

The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell the other dog or cat’s butt. I cannot stress this enough.

Finally, in fairness, dear pets, I have posted the following message on the front door:

TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND LIKE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR PETS:

(1) They live here. You don’t.

(2) If you don’t want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That’s why they call it ‘fur’-niture.

(3) I like my pets a lot better than I like most people..

(4) To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and don’t speak clearly.

Remember, dogs and cats are better than kids because they:

(1) eat less,

(2) don’t ask for money all the time,

(3) are easier to train,

(4) normally come when called,

(5) never ask to drive the car,

(7) don’t smoke or drink,

(8) don’t want to wear your clothes,

(9) don’t have to buy the latest fashions,

(10) don’t need a gazillion dollars for college and

(11) if they get pregnant, you can sell their children…..(*_*)

This “pet note” came in as an email from my friend, Rosemary, who has a wonderful health blog about living with chronic pain, Seeking Equilibrium.

Thanks for sharing Rosemary!

 

A dog named Free

A dog who loved the river, resting after a swim.

Free, In her element by the mountain creek.

I was a young mother and at times, when I look back, I think I grew up with my son.  Sometimes I’d get strange ideas.  Like with getting a dog.  I told him if we were supposed to have a dog (as if everything is predetermined, which I don’t believe is so), that one would probably just come to us.  I told him if the opportunity arose before school started, which was only about ten days later, then I’d think about it.

“$25.00” read the sign on the side of the large cardboard  box. 

 I don’t know how my son spotted it since we were across the street eating , but he did.  We were at the Apple Chill festival downtown Chapel Hill, North Carolina. 

“Mom!  Look!”  And he ran.  He ran fast to the other side of the road and then I heard, “Mom, come here and hurry!”  

Approaching the box I had no clue what was inside.  My son had already spoken with the nice woman standing beside of it.  She was smiling.  He leaned down and came out with a small but fat black furry puppy.  It was the ninth day since I’d said what I had and unknowingly to me,  he had counted the days. 

“It’s the ninth day Mom!”  He placed the puppy in my hands and looked into my eyes.  Very quickly he said here let me take that one and he put it back in the box.  “There she is,” he said.  He picked up another puppy, gently placing  her in my hands.  A smile came across his face instantly and right then tears flowed from my eyes.

I didn’t know why.   I felt something deep inside me.  I knew she had come to us.  I knew too that we needed an extra family member.  Two was not enough.  We needed three and there was our third member, curled up in the cup of my hands just like she had fallen from heaven.

“Can we take her home now?” my son asked.  He hadn’t tried to hold her but instead he wanted me to keep holding her.  “You like her don’t you Mom,” he said with great confidence, and I most certainly did.

“I have some cash in my car,” I told the nice woman selling her puppies at the festival.  “I’ll go and get it.” 

My son’s face glowed. The woman’s eyes teared up.  “You don’t have to pay,” she said.  I can tell you guys are going to give her a wonderful home and that means so much to me.  I can tell you both already love her!”

“Here is eight dollars,” I told her, which was all the cash I had on me.  I offered to pay more but she insisted that we not pay anymore.  She thanked me saying this would cover the puppy shots she had paid for.

Free lived with us as our third and necessary extra family member for 12 years, which is not much time in my time, but a bit in hers.

Most people think she was free, but we named her after a horse from Texas.  Free always reminded me of horses.  She grazed in fields of grass as a pastime and almost always never got sick. 

I’m thinking about Free a lot lately.  Free lived every moment to the fullest.  She engaged in life with every fiber of her being, even in the end she still wanted to experience life, mostly the fresh air outside.  

Free passed with as much glory as she had come to us with, leaving her love and teachings with me forever.

I found a note I wrote shortly after she passed on.  I know it is sad to think about our pets who had to leave Earth, but for me, I cannot forget.

I spent three amazing days with Free shortly before she left this earth.  I spent every day with Free during her life,  but those three days were special.  I stayed with her the entire time.  I lied down as close as I could get with her in the corner.   The Thunder beings came, which always scared Free and I held her close.  I stared into her eyes and I told her all that she meant to me.

People think you’re crazy when you say you can communicate with your dog.  I think people who can’t are kind of strange.

Free sure shared a lot with me.   She was my teacher.  Those three days –Free showed me the world from her view.   I could see life from a place of complete forgiveness, peace and a knowing that it is all okay.

I came across this note I’d written in my diary shortly after Free passed on.

She remains an angel.  

A gift from God

I am humbled 

  My face towards the ground, my head hanging low

I reach for the earth,  the roots run deep

I return to the sky,  the trees stand tall

And this is Free

She is everything beautiful.

Pretty flowers grew and beauty appeared in the woods where no other flowers grew. A healing garden in memory of my best friend, a furry four-legged girl.

A Healing Garden, In Memory of Free