Friday, April 16, 2010


The other day, Emma and I went to the pet store, she'd never been. Her favorite part was the birds; mine, as usual, the teddy bear hamsters. Instead of purchasing a bird or a hamster however, we bought a fish. A red Beta, which Emma named Gillbert. I thought this was clever naming, considering fish have gills, but I think she named him after an ancestor of ours, which I guess show's more cleverness, considering she's five. I've always felt a little guilty buying fish. You confine them to a small bowl and furthermore, it's glass, making it impossible for them not to constantly watch their captives everyday life. Nevertheless, he's sitting on my table, looking what I think to be happy, but how can you really tell with a fish?


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  2. Gillbert's happy. Check this out:

    "Let us consider now the case of the goldfish in the house. His diet is the same, but how different his surroundings! If his bowl is placed on a table in the middle of the floor, he has but to flash his tail once and he has been all round the drawing-room. The drawing-room may not seem much to you, but to him this impressionist picture through the curved glass must be amazing. Let not the outdoor goldfish boast of his freedom. What does he, in his little world of water-lily roots, know of the vista upon vista which opens to his more happy brother as he passes jauntily from china dog to ottoman and from ottoman to Henry’s father? Ah, here is life! It may be that in the course of years he will get used to it, even bored by it; indeed, for that reason I always advocate giving him a glance at the dining-room or the bedrooms on Wednesdays and Saturdays; but his first day in the bowl must be the opening of an undreamt of heaven to him."

    -A.A. Milne-