Well, friends, I've been away from this space and really anything online for awhile and there are millions of deep thoughts swirling around in my brain and important topics to discuss here. But there are also three kids out of the house and I'm having the carpet replaced next week so that means the entire upstairs needs to be cleared out. Which means I have a date with a 15 year old boy's closet and as much as I'd like to, I really can't put it off much longer.
Still, I had to check in because I know that five or six of you are holding your breath with worry over the fish.
Listen. I'm not going to mince words here.
It's not looking good.
Yesterday Blue Ridge was laying flat on the rocks on the bottom of his bowl and he only fluttered up with heroic effort to eat a speck of food and then he pretty much sank right back down to the rocks. Now, perhaps, he is just in vacation mode because that was pretty much the routine for me while we were in Colorado last week. I sat slumped in a chair on the patio by the river, only hoisting myself out to eat, drink or choose another magazine. No one seemed to be at the ready to flush me down the toilet as far as I know, so maybe things are better than they seem for the fish. Also, my vast veterinary medicine knowledge tells me that when a fish is all the way dead it will be floating at the top of the water, not hanging out on the rocks on the bottom.
Early this morning, though, I glanced in to Drew's room and saw that Blue Ridge was at the top of the bowl. Oh Lord. I walked over and peeked in the top and lo and behold that guy stared at me with his creepy popped out eye and flapped his little fin at me. Perhaps it was a final good bye or perhaps he was shaking his fishy fist at me saying, "You seriously couldn't spring the extra 15 bucks for the other medication?"
The good news is that Blue Ridge, while lethargic and very certainly bitter, is still with us despite the fact that I didn't return to the pet store to cough up the cash for a new remedy. I did, however, cough up some cash for these and I even paid for rush shipping so that I could have them to wear on my Colorado vacay because they seemed Aspenish..
I know. You can't even. Gasping all around. You're either so enthralled with my new (toe-loop!) sandals that you forgot about the fish or you think I'm a materialistic, stone-cold meanie pants. I won't ask which variety you gasped.
I will have you know that despite my seeming lack of concern, there has been considerable compassion and reverence for the fish since we arrived home from vacation over the weekend. Last night Drew asked Steve to pray for Blue Ridge. We gathered around the bed and bowed our heads.
Let me just say this. My husband prayed the longest prayer on record in this house for our fungusy-pop-eyed fish. I'm fairly certain that had Billy Graham been here he would have said, "Son, you're going to need to wrap it up."
Drew cried through the entire sermon and I almost suffered a neck injury due to bowing my head as far down as I could so that no one could see me laughing.
I know. More gasping at my callousness. Y'all. Don't judge. You forgot about my new sandals, did you? Just scroll back up and look at those again.
As of this afternoon, Blue Ridge has taken to resting on top of the beautiful plastic tree that came free of charge with the fish bowl we bought at PetSmart. He's inching ever closer to the top of the bowl and I would suspect, ever closer to the great, white light, so we are anticipating that very soon something like this will be happening in Skinner World.
Now, y'all, please bow your heads and thank the good Lord for The Cosby Show and please put in a word for our fish. Also, if you're so inclined, go to SOUTH MOON UNDER to order a pair of sandals. There is some really good news for you, but not necessarily for me. It appears that you can get them for 50% less than I did. I suppose and I'm sure that Blue Ridge would agree, that I deserve that.
I'll be back with hopefully more interesting and important thoughts soon. Happy August!