ashes to ashes, fins to toilet...my eulogy to max

My good friend and constant bedfellow, Max, for short, or Beta Max the Rainbow Fish, for long, has gone to the sweet hereafter. I'm putting his age at about 3 years 1 month. I've had him since December 03 when my nephews got him for me, already full grown. He was a happy homosexual fish or so I believed because he was so aptly named originally Rainbow Fish (later changed by me for all you old beta max tape loving people), by them. He moved in with me in Jan 03 to the Van Nuys house and has been there every single day. Sometimes swimming, sometimes sitting [looking dead] at the bottom of the bowl, but alas every single time I dropped a pellet in his bowl he would swim up and get it. Today I dropped in the pellets and noticed he didnt move. This was standard sometimes and i would tap the bowl and around and around he would then swim. Today was different. I was up long before the sun came up and I had to turn on the light next to my bed to make sure he would pop up to get his breakfast. I noticed his eyes were white and his fin was in his gill coming out of his mouth. At this point I was sure that he had tricked me no more. I am sad to see him go. I am even sad that I won't be able to clean out his bowl for his sometimes semi monthly bowl cleaning. I know, often it was murky Max, murky with your own poo, but you are a beta fish, one of the toughest freshwater fish in nature. You live in rice patties and essentially eat the waste in water. You are essentially, a very very pretty carp, not far removed from a catfish. But you survived your brother (also given by my nephews to my mom at the same time) by over two years and 4 replacement brothers that mom has subsequently seen the demise of.

I hope you didn't mind that sometimes I put you and your brothers' bowl right next to each other and watched with delight as you guys fluffed up to your colorful best. I hope you didn't mind me holding a mirror up to your bowl occasionally to again gleefully delight in your aggression even with yourself. I also remember when you would wake me up in the morning (much later [to your credit] than your much furrier and larger mammal cousin Hiram) blowing bubbles and staring at me eerily as if you were speaking to me, or just asking for food. I saw you through diets and a bloated belly to bring you back down to your fighting weight even though you were retired or a never contender, as far as I know. You will be missed, you were a good beta and had never broken my heart or posed a threat unlike your 50 gallon predescessor did all over my dvd collection. I hope you're good where you are now. I'm sorry I sent your body away with all the poop. I would rather that than have Hiram dig you up and snack on you. Take care fish...and hopefully you have reached enlightenment.