I'm a bad mother.
Nov. 20th, 2001 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blustockingMilo the Fish died today. I just noticed it. He was alive when I got to work this morning and just now, when I went to clean his tank, I noticed him, not moving, nose pointed towards the gravel.
I'm sorry Emily.
I did not need this today. As if I weren't emotional enough, now Milo has to die. God I hate it when animals die, and now I feel like it's my fault. It's not directly. I cleaned his tank, fed him good food, put supplements in the water. But because he's at work, is a minor secret and I'm not here all the time. He didn't get fed often enough I don't think. Or maybe he got overfed. Oh crap. I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck. Poor Milo.
Now I have to go decide whether to flush him or bury him. Each is equally horrible.
Dammit. No more pretty, lively fishy to help me get through the day.
Fuck.
12:45am...
I carried him, wrapped in a paper towel, downstairs to the front of the building. I felt how little, how fragile his little body was through the paper. I did not like that. I know it's a fish. I know to some of you it's ONLY a fish, but it's still, or was, a living, breathing creature, only this one was innocent. Which is a lot more than I can say for most human beings. I buried him in a shady spot with trees and bushes and placed a large yellow flower, from one of the nearby plants, on top of the dirt. I couldn't bear the indignity of flushing him. Not even a Betta deserves to be flushed. So I buried him where he can feed the soil, plants, and trees. I can't help but cry.
I'm going home now. I have so much to do and now I really don't want to do anything but sleep.
I'm sorry Emily.
I did not need this today. As if I weren't emotional enough, now Milo has to die. God I hate it when animals die, and now I feel like it's my fault. It's not directly. I cleaned his tank, fed him good food, put supplements in the water. But because he's at work, is a minor secret and I'm not here all the time. He didn't get fed often enough I don't think. Or maybe he got overfed. Oh crap. I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck. Poor Milo.
Now I have to go decide whether to flush him or bury him. Each is equally horrible.
Dammit. No more pretty, lively fishy to help me get through the day.
Fuck.
12:45am...
I carried him, wrapped in a paper towel, downstairs to the front of the building. I felt how little, how fragile his little body was through the paper. I did not like that. I know it's a fish. I know to some of you it's ONLY a fish, but it's still, or was, a living, breathing creature, only this one was innocent. Which is a lot more than I can say for most human beings. I buried him in a shady spot with trees and bushes and placed a large yellow flower, from one of the nearby plants, on top of the dirt. I couldn't bear the indignity of flushing him. Not even a Betta deserves to be flushed. So I buried him where he can feed the soil, plants, and trees. I can't help but cry.
I'm going home now. I have so much to do and now I really don't want to do anything but sleep.
