Victoria wants a pet. No, that's not right. Victoria wants a menagerie. She wants anything and everything, so long as it breathes. I, on the other hand, am tired of doing valet service to multitudes of animals -- fish, fowl, and fauna. Now, you know I love my animals, and do everything under the sun to keep them happy and healthy. But I'm tired. Tired of cleaning up after them... tired of doling out money to the vet... tired of cat hair on my best glad rags, tired of stepping in cat throw-up when I'm fresh out of the tub, tired of being the doorman when they have a perfectly good pet door... Et cetera. (Of course I get over this attitude the moment one of the cats jumps on my lap, purring and kneading his or her little paws on my lap, and looking lovingly up into my face.) But... the answer to Victoria's requests have always been "No", "No", and "No" again.
Until today, when I relented and said she could get a fish, if she, and only she, takes care of it, lock, stock, and barrel. Tank and fins.
Yes, yes, of course she would. Just one Beta, that's what she was going to get. One.
She came home with a GloFish Starfire Red Danio, a Peruvian Altum Angelfish, and an Aquarium catfish. And a 2.5-gallon tank.
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