Mr. B has a fish. It was a Christmas present from 2010. I gave Mr. B the aquarium for Christmas and a few days later we had to go pick out the fish. Sounds funny doesn't it that a grown man would get so excited over a Siamese Fighting Fish, but he did. The selection at the pet store was pretty sparse after the holidays but he couldn't wait for a new stock of fish to come in. He wanted to leave the store with the fish that day.
He named the fish Nitro. Personally, I've never felt the need to name a fish. I've just never felt the same warm fuzzy feelings about fish like other pets. But I had to admit, Nitro did have his own personality. He hated women, especially me. If I went close to the tank, he immediately flared out his fins. So we came to a mutual agreement to leave each other alone. Mr. B took ownership of Nitro very seriously. I often joked that he cared more about the fish than he did about me. Yet secretly I was very happy that Mr. B took an interest in his fish. He's never been one to have any hobbies. Now that he's on sick leave he is going stir crazy. It doesn't help that we live in a condo either. There's not much to do around the house as far as maintenance is concerned.
Today we noticed that Nitro was staying close to the bottom of the tank. He's mostly lying on his side and is hardly moving. We think that he is dying. It couldn't have come at a worse time. I think that Mr. B is very sad. Even I am sad. But mostly I'm sad for Mr. B. I did some research on Siamese Fighting Fish and their life expectancy is 2 years. The article estimated that they are usually about 9 months old when they are sold so I guess that means that Nitro has reached his old age. Poor Nitro.