Another Burial at Sea

    Amazingly, Fish V has already died. He passed away some time late yesterday evening. Right from the start I had a feeling he was already a bit on the mature side and he was already exhibiting signs of the fishy dementia I’ve seen before, but he didn’t even last two weeks.
    Unlike the manic spastic behavior of Fish IV’s last days, Fish V seemed weak and listless, but he still behaved just as oddly. Fish V never seemed that hungry and he would spend most of his time huddled at the bottom of the bowl, hardly ever rising or moving. Once I came home to find him sitting in the middle of the bowl’s lone plant, sitting amid the little green leaves as if he’d swerved out of control and crashed. Just a few days ago I found him on his side, with his head wedged under the base of the plant as if he were trying to hide or trying to dig a tunnel out of there.
    Now that I’ve said goodbye to another fish, I’ve come to realize two things. Firstly, it appears my fish bowl has become a kind of hospice, where weak and tired bettas come to spend their last days. And secondly, it’s becoming more obvious the lives of my fish are beginning to parallel the Star Trek movies, since the odd-numbered ones do less well. I’m not sure when I’ll get another, but when I do I suppose I’m obligated to call him Fish VI: The Undiscovered Country.