‘No you can’t have a dog Lola,’ I said perhaps for the twelfth time.
‘How ‘bout a cat then?’ she asked petulantly.
‘No, not a cat nor dog nor a bird - in case you were going to ask. They're all too much trouble.’
I sat stubbornly with my legs propped up on an opposite chair warming by hands with the morning coffee.
Lola thought hard. ‘A fish?’
I paused ever so slightly.
‘Thanks dad!’ she said running off to make the arrangements.
Well a fish was possibly the least troublesome pet I thought.
Later that day a small fish bowl sat next to the phone cluttering up the kitchen bench. I frowned but said nothing.
In the afternoon, a red-blue Siamese fighting fish wriggled its way around the tank. I can handle this I thought.
The next morning Lola was in tears. ‘He won’t eat,’ she cried.
‘There, there. He’s probably not hungry. How ‘bout you go back to the pet shop and ask them what to do?’
‘Thanks dad!’ she said brightening up immediately and ran from the room. I watched her go then turned back to the starving fish. ‘What’s up little guy?’
After work and the perfunctory hugs of my excited children I noticed a few small water snails now coasting serenely around the fishbowl. The fish seemed a little happier. ‘So you were lonely were you?’
That night Lola paid little attention to the fish she’d called Lucy. ‘You know it’s male don’t you darling?' I pointed out.
‘But it so beautiful with its big flowing fins.’
The next morning Lola was in tears again. ‘What wrong now, honey?’
‘The snails are cannibals!’ she wailed.
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that. What’s does the internet say about snails?’ I offered mainly to redirect her emotions in a more practical direction.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied brightening perceptibly and running off to the turn on the computer. I watched her go. Maybe they're hungry too I thought.
Arriving home from work after the children had gone to bed I was surprised to see a second identical fishbowl next to the first. A second blood red Siamese fighting fish wriggled through the limp water. Nobody had thought of mirror apparently.
‘What know?’ I asked Lola the next morning. She was sobbing quietly in the corner.
‘Neither of the fish are eating and there’s only one snail left,’ she moaned.
I sighed. ‘Perhaps you need to recreate their natural environment better,’ I suggested.
‘What do you mean?’ she sniffed, looking up.
‘Well, how do they live in the wild? Maybe it’s stressed because the way you’ve set up the tank is not close enough to its natural environment. You might remove the large pink castle, ship wreck and waving mermaid on the clam shell for example,’ I suggested.
‘Thanks dad!’ she grabbed her school bag and ran out door. Everyone’s always running I thought then turned back to my cold toast and newspaper.
The two fishbowls had been replaced with much smaller ones when I returned home that day. The pink castles, shipwrecks and mermaids were nowhere to be seen.
‘You were right dad,’ said Lola as she tied her hair into a bun. ‘Siamese fish come from Asia and live in the water-filled hoof-prints of water buffalo. So I found some hoof-sized tanks to make them feel at home. See, they look happier don’t they?’
I looked and they did indeed seem happier.
‘I’m off dancing dad,’ she said kissing me on the cheek and jogging out the door.
The two fish and I regarded each other curiously.
The next morning brought more tears.
‘They're not eating again dad!’
I pondered the quandary for a few seconds. ‘Well, maybe you need to change the type of food they eat. Reducing the size of their tank helped. Maybe offering them food they’d eat in the wild would help too.’ I suggested.
‘You so clever dad,’ she said skipping out the door.
I arrived home that night to find Lola grinning happily and the two fighting fish extremely active in their tiny homes.
‘You were right dad! It was the food all along. Look at them, they’re eating and they’re happy. I love you dad.’
‘I love you too darling. What food do they eat in the wild?’
‘Small grubs that live in buffalo droppings.’
‘You were lucky that the pet shop stocks such uncommon insects.’
Lola looked shyly away at my comment which I knew meant she wasn’t telling me something. Then I heard a window-rattling ‘moooo’.
I saw Lola bite her lower lip as I turned towards the sound.
Through the window, tethered to the outdoor table stood an enormous animal that I could only assume was a water buffalo. It’s long horns were hung with torn mesh from the trampoline enclosure. It's hoof was stuck in a flowerpot.
‘Mooo,’ it bellowed again.
I stood in shock horror with my mouth hanging open as it knocked over a deck chair.
‘That’s a, a, a,’ I stuttered.
‘Water buffalo.’
‘But, but,’ I continued.
‘It was the only way I could get fresh grubs.’
‘Um, um,’ I added.
‘The man at the pet shop said you were right by the way.’
‘Oh?’ I asked mesmerised by the buffalo’s enormous brown eyes. Saliva hung gelatinously from the corner of its mouth.
Lola joined me at the window and put her diminutive arm around my waist. ‘Yes. He said that fish are much easy to care for than puppies.’
Posts
