In Which A Dead Fish Makes Me Proud

B2’s Betta fish, Violet, swam her last laps last week.  She hadn’t been feeling well for a while now, at least we’re guessing, considering she had been swimming upright for about a month.  I Googled her odd condition, administered the strange remedy (which included trying to get her to eat a green pea, which I can’t even get my kids to eat), was vigilant with keeping her water clean, but she finally gave it up last Thursday.  No one was really surprised, but since she had been a loyal (as loyal as a fish can be) pet for about two years it was a sad time of passing.

We called B2 upstairs after we realized she was gone and asked what he wanted to do with her.  He choose to bury her in his pumpkin patch and let her fertilize the soil, like the Native Americans used to.  B2 was sad, I could tell, but he didn’t hesitate a bit when it was time to make her final arrangements.  He gently placed her in the ground, covered her up, and focused on how she could help something that was alive and growing.  I was a proud mama.

So why would a dead fish make me proud?  Well, he gets it.  He understands that animals don’t have souls, they don’t die and go to “a better place” or any place at all but the ground.  He understands the cycle of life and the importance of keeping things in prospective.  You have to rejoice in the little accomplishments sometimes when it comes to seeing your children grow because those are the things that keep you focused on what you’re doing as a parent.

And now we figure out how to answer the big question…… Can we get a hamster?

Ugh.

 

 

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