Something Fishy

It wasn’t until about the third or fourth time watering my fish that I realized that what I consider to be normal might not necessarily be a universally shared viewpoint.

Let me back up a bit here. I own a small fish. I don’t know its gender, but I’ve just been assuming male, mainly because he doesn’t have a very large shoe collection. He also doesn’t have a name, as nothing has yet struck me as being worthy. However, to keep things from getting confusing, I’m going to refer to him here as “Swimmy.”

Swimmy is pretty much the ultimate pet. I don’t have to clean up after him. I don’t have to feed him. I don’t have to read him bedtime stories. I only have to occasionally water him. This is because he’s made out of plastic.

Those of you who keep up with this blog probably realize that I received Swimmy as a Christmas joke gift. He’s a toy that, when batteries are inserted into his chest cavity, automatically flips his tail back and forth when placed in water, thus propelling him randomly about.

Now, usually joke Christmas gifts don’t get much use besides their initial laugh factor, but I’ve made a concerted effort to give Swimmy a home, which consists of a little bowl of water. I’ve long since rendered his batteries unusable, however, since it just seems cruel to force him to continually swim around, solely for the amusement of others. Now he just floats in his little bowl on the top of my fridge, perfectly content with his life. He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t watch TV. He also probably wouldn’t scare away a burglar, but nobody’s perfect.

The only real problem with Swimmy isn’t even his fault; it’s chemistry’s. You see, as Swimmy floats about all day in his bowl, his water is very slowly evaporating. Eventually, perhaps once a week or so, I’ll look up and notice that Swimmy is huddled near the bottom of the bowl, which is now only filled to about quarter capacity. Swimmy will return my gaze with wide eyes, as if he’s saying, “A little help over here!”

So I have to water my fish frequently. It may seem strange, but what else are you going to do?

This makes me wonder if watering a fish is normal. I suppose that anybody with an open fishbowl might have to do it periodically, but probably not to the same extent as I. It’s not like I’ve ever heard the following in passing conversation: “Well, I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get home and water my fish.” Or: “Vacation was great! Unfortunately, we forgot to hire somebody to drop by and water the fish, so I guess we’re heading back to Toys ‘R Us to get another one!”

Personally, I don’t mind watering Swimmy. It’s way better than watering plants – which seem to die almost instantly when placed in the same living quarters as me – and in the end, I guess I don’t really care if it isn’t a normal thing to do or not.

The moral of the story? Well, I guess there really is none, except perhaps I need to get something to scare off burglars. Maybe a really big plastic fish…