Why My First Fish Was My Last

Please welcome one of my newer blogging friends, Megs of Midnight Musings With Megs. This young lady is an incredible writer. To all those who brought home their first fish and didn’t know quite how to take care of it – this one’s for you.

(Comments are closed here. Please leave comments over on Meg’s site.)

Midnight Musings with Megs

When I talked about my fear of getting locked in bathroom stalls in “There’s Nothing To Fear,But Maybe This,” I felt a little validated. Maybe I’m not an over thinker. I actually learned that other people have that fear and wonder if others might share my other legitimate fears.

Such as pet fish.

We had a pet goldfish when I was roundabouts 9 or 10. It was orange-ish, going against the gold name given to it, with a black splotch on its tiny cheek that was shaped like Mickey Mouse. An MM fanatic, I named the fish Mickey and had grand plans for us. It liked swimming, I loved swimming, so we had a lot to talk about. It liked Mickey Mouse so much that it had that birthmark or tattoo in the shape of the mouse’s head. I loved Mickey

View original post 609 more words

This entry was posted in Humor, Pets, Re-Blogs, That's Life and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.