Tamale and Slash; A Boy and His Personal Brand
Thursday, March 25, 2010 A couple of weeks ago, Middle Boy's beloved fish, Rainbow, went to the big fishbowl in the sky. Rainbow was a betta and Middle Boy's first personal pet. Mary, our dog, doesn't really count because Mary and Middle Boy never hit it off, especially after the two unfortunate pooping incidents of 2003. One on his bed, and one almost on his lap. It was as if the dog and the boy knew immediately that they didn't like one another seven years ago.
Middle Boy [now 10] has always loved animals, so one year, his deductive reasoning skills led him to the conclusion that because Mary was an animal, and because he loved all living creatures, he must love Mary. He's a logical child so the sound arguments left him no other choice. I'm certain he continues to rely on this rationale every time Mary glares at him or chews holes in the carpet under his bed.
Rainbow's passing was heavy in our home. The sadness he experienced surprised Middle Boy, which subsequently surprised and moved me. He came down the stairs nervously saying, Rainbow's dead. He was fine this morning. Together we confirmed that, in fact, it was curtains for Rainbow. Middle Boy wanted to execute the flushing ceremony himself, even after the color drained from his face when he thought he saw blood in Rainbow's habitat. [There was no blood.]
It was a long, sad afternoon. I cleaned the fish tank. I also removed some fishsticks from the freezer, per Middle Boy's request. "Too painful," he said. [He's since managed to choke down salmon and shrimp, so I think he's recovered from the "seafood-is-Rainbow" PTSD.]
Middle Boy found comfort in processing his thoughts aloud. I don't think I fed him too much. He didn't act sick. I've had him for almost two years. That's old for a betta. I think he died of old age. Probably in his sleep. That's gotta be it.
I finally asked, "Would you like a new fish? Would that make you feel better?"
He tried not to jump on the offer, but I could tell it was exactly what he wanted. "I think so," he said. "Not to replace Rainbow, of course. Just to help me with my grief."
We went to the store to purchase a fish. Middle Boy wanted to make sure the new fish didn't resemble Rainbow. Again he reminded me, Rainbow could never be replaced.
The new fish is bright red and perky. He flutters and swims when he hears voices. Middle Boy noticed that Tamale [the fish's name] does not like to be observed eating and we've been instructed to leave the room when the fish is fed. He needs PRIVACY, Mom.
Middle Boy gave me permission to share this tender fish story. In an effort to balance his soft side, he also gave me permission to share a drawing he created a few days ago. It's Slash from Guns N' Roses, one of Middle Boy's idols.
Middle Boy -- a fish loving, electric guitar playing, softhearted, appreciative of the edgy and cool set, ten year-old. I hope he never changes.
Reader Comments (27)
He researches everything meticulously, builds habitats, knows his animals. He even paid over a $100 of his own money to have a herptologist make a housecall to check on his African lizard who was sick. The vet told me, "He really knows a lot about the breed." But, of course, things go awry. Sometimes horribly awry. And always, always, always when his father is away from home.
I have conducted many pet funerals and taken my children through the stages of grief. It's not fair. It's not easy. But, yes, my kids have learned so much (esp. my son) about love,care, and respect for animals and about life in general as a result of our pet adventures.
Rest in peace Rainbow.
Thank you, Claire. This will make him feel good.
I can picture you and Fiona dancing. Makes me smile. :-)
When I was in college my roommate stole my beta (named puddles). I was heartbroken.
Tamale is gorgeous.
The drawing is totally awesome!
He actually struggled a little more than I revealed in the post. We had tears for a few nights, even though Tamale brought some comfort. [Shhh. He's private about crying. We've told him it's healthy and normal. Still...]
What a nasty roommate!? Who would steal someone's fish? Boo, ick.
To: chrisyross@msn.com
Giggled at the line about the fish needing privacy!
I like the ying and the yang of his personality.
He better never change. The world needs more of people like him.
Viva La Tamale!
I love the drawing.
And the pic rocks.
My son is 14 1/2 now. We currently have a bearded dragon, two cats, and a dog.
When my son was 12 and his sister was 10, they started a neighborhood dog walking and pet sitting business. My daughter even took a pet first aid class and learned to do [snort] mouth-to-snout resuscitation. The two kids have regular income from the pet care business.
We cover all the costs of having the dog and cats, but I told my son when he wanted to get reptiles that he would be responsible not just for their care but for their food (they require "live" food--crickets, mealworms etc.). I also told him we would not be able to provide veterinary care for them.
He found the equipment he needed on Craig's List and bought his bearded dragon from a local college student who was moving. He has always taken excellent care of the reptiles and accepted the financial terms. The time he paid to have a vet make a housecall, he learned how to give a gecko medication!
As for me, well, I've learned to care about animals without eyelashes. ;) Yes, I've warmed up to cold-blooded critters, just a bit.
When my little Minime was 2.5 years old and wanted a pet goldfish, I struggled with the idea because I was certain that she'd be heartbroken when she would inevitably find it floating tummy side up, the next morning. But how could I deny my only child a pet fish after her Daddy took her to the pet store every stinkin day? So I gave in and got the damned fish. Took it home and told her to enjoy it because the lifespan of a goldfish was exactly 24 hours and that he would die tomorrow. Well, fast forward 10 years and would you believe our dirty stinky goldfish "Speckles" was still around until we changed his tank and the new tank poisoned it (something in the seals degassed and made it very ill). I didn't have the heart to flush him while he was writhing in pain, but he was taking way too long to die on his own, so my husband took our daughter out on the front porch after she'd said her good-byes to Speckles and I simply took him out of the tank, laid him on a paper towel and covered him with another paper towel. I'll never forget the way that fish looked at me. It was pitiful having to euthanize my daughter's first and only pet. I blame my husband for this. But you notice he was the one who instigated the acquisition of said fish and then when the time came to euthanize the poor bastard, where was he? comforting his little girl in her grief while I did the dirty work. Oh! and I should take a picture of the little grave. Yup, you heard me, they buried the deceased on the side of the house 'neath a crepe myrtle tree and marked the spot with a wooden cross. And we're not even religious - agnostic actually.