I'm sad to report that after nearly two years with our family, our betta Berry gave up the ghost today.
While I'm generally not particularly attached to fish, Berry was a bit of a wonder. Not only did he survive the rollicking truck ride from Illinois to Utah, but several months ago he made an astonishing comeback from death's doorstep. (I'll spare you the morbid details, but let's just say that for three months nothing Berry ate came out. The poor fish was nearly wider than he was long!)
After Berry's miracle recovery, I thought he might be destined to join our family indefinitely. This afternoon, however, I sensed that something was wrong. Now let's be honest; I'm usually not remarkably in tune with my betta's vibes. However, when your fish audibly thrashes before slowly sinking to the bottom of the tank, be warned.
Disturbed by Berry's strange behavior, I mentioned to my Mom that I wished he would just move on so I wouldn't have to watch him suffer. An hour later, he was gone.
So now I feel guilty. When I wished that Berry would die, I didn't mean that very moment! It feels like I pushed the poor fish into his porcelain grave.
And so Berry, I want you to know that you were good and faithful, as far as fish go. We were glad to have you in our family, and wish you many happy nibbles in the life beyond. As for myself, I solemnly promise never to wish anyone or anything dead ever again!