We Have Clearance, Clarence

Once upon a time we were gifted two goldfish.  What many people don't know is that you have to be made of some pretty tough stuff to come live with us (or in Fat Linda's case, too dumb to know the difference).  We discussed our firm expectations with the newcomers and they seemed to "jump on board" so to speak.

Their names were hotly debated in our family.  Eli wanted to name them Spit and Spot.  We told him those were the lamest names we had ever heard of and mercilessly teased him for the rest of the night.  Then we changed their names to Barbara and Clarence Hernandez.

Turns out Barbara was a weakling because she checked out early - about a week after arrival.  She must have found it stressful living under the constant watch of a half-feral cat.  We threw her in the yard  as a warning to other wimpy fish (like in Braveheart).

Clarence turned out to be a survivor.  He lived over a month.  The kids got awfully attached to him and he and Lorenzo stayed up late every night eating soup and talking and not talking (name that movie).  Then his owners made a series of bad decisions.  We needed to clean his cloudy bowl.  Mark and Eli "fished" him out with one of those soup ladles with holes in it and put him in one of Eli's cups.  When he freaked out and started to float awkwardly, we knew we had a problem.  Mark rushed through the cleaning process and we got him back in the water as fast as possible.  But it was too late, the damage had been done.  Poor Clarence seemed to be in shock.  He might have had some kind of heart attack from the trauma.  He fought valiantly against it but eventually succumbed.  Eli was very upset (he kept calling him by his birth name - Spit).  We talked him about death and then let him say his goodbyes before sending him (Eli) up to bed.

When we got back downstairs, we found Lorenzo mourning the loss of his friend, waiting for movement, praying for a miracle.  Fat Linda lay on the floor, staring at the wall wondering when she would be able to eat again.

I've included some pictures to memorialize Clarence.  You can all feel the proper amount of grief and closure this way.

Immediately after his passing.

Lorenzo:  waiting and hoping.

Fat Linda obliviously loafing on the floor below.

The death instrument.  This time transporting him to his grave site.  

(Man, I hope we washed that thing before serving dinner)

Farewell, dear friend.  He looks so small and lonely in there.

Have fun at the local waste water treatment plant.

While you are feeling sad for our fish, you can also feel sad for what I accidentally did to Mark's plant the day after he left town.  It didn't start out looking like this.  Luckily a good drowning (sorry Clarence, no offense intended) brought this stinker back.  It obviously is more tenacious than our fish.

Like I said, the Clinton house is not for wimps... or smart cats.