I think its time I got a real pet. P.S. The fish didn't die

My fish- Excuse me, My oldest sister's fish, who I inherited over a year ago, almost died.

It was a very normal day. I woke up, went into the kitchen, toasted some bread, sat down in the living room to wait for the toasted bread to become toasted bread, and reached over to feed him, Leonard, that is.

Only, Leonard was floating upside down at the top of the tank. Really, he was only floating part way upside down. It was sort of like he was doing the side stroke, only there was no stroking going on.

In a panic, I rapped on the glass of his bowl, "Leonard," I cried, "Leonard, don't leave me." (I have excluded the fact that I really pleaded 'Snookums', the name of my first, individually owned, diseased goldfish. I often call Leonard that, by accident).

Images from my past flew threw my mind in a rampage: The fish I'd set on the space heater...who had died. It was my fault; Ernie May, who'd wedged himself under the rocks. I'd suspected Snookums was responsible; the little guppies we'd terminated, while babysitting; the jelly fish that'd frightened me while snorkling in Mexico; the chunks of meat the mexicans had thrown over board right on top of me to attract heards of wild colored crazy man-eating fish for me to delight at; and the summer I thought I was a mermaid at the waterslide beach past Coleraine.

I don't know why I delight in Leonard. Fish terrify me. There's only one thing that terrifies me more than fish, ok two, large insects and alligators. Now, I've never seen an alligator, but if I ever unsuspectingly chance upon one, I doubt I will be able to run fast enough to escape its monstrous grip.

Have you read 7th Son by Orson Scott Card? I read it in middle school. I should've waited a few years, then, maybe, I would have understood it. I did catch onto a few things. The boy in the story has mind powers of sorts, and he uses them to make deals with the cockroaches on his floor at night. He'll let them live if they only invade those things he's mindlessly left on the floor. I used to make deals like that with the spiders I knew invaded my room at night, who I feared would crawl up into my bed with me. I'd heard a rumor that a spider could lay its eggs in your mouth, or nostrils and you wouldn't even know it until they hatched and spiders covered your entire body. I probably heard it at a slumber party, or from my oldest sister who lived to tell her younger sisters profound truths she knew we could not live without.

You can stop rolling your eyes now Brecken. Because I'm back to your fish.

I don't understand why I'm willing to take care of this extraterrestrial form. Its reddish/bluish scales, its big beady eyes, and inability to communicate in any way, shape or form. I wonder why I'm willing to feed it two fish foods a day, when I can't manage to get myself to take vitamins on a daily basis, unless of course I get a shiny sticker in my planner for doing it.

I hate fish, and I love Snookums. Er-Leonard.

I think...

I think...

I think its time I got a real pet. Maybe, a dachsund. Right Dad?