, , , , , , ,

I have been looking lovingly and longingly at pictures of red-bellied piranhas, online, for the past twenty minutes.  I want them.  I want them so badly.

Eleven years ago I was given two red-bellied piranhas for my birthday, and they survived the move to South Carolina (where I lived for six months).  A couple weeks before I was to move back to RI, I noticed and remarked how they were acting strange.

I know they’re fish, people, but when you stare at them for hours a day you kind of notice when they aren’t behaving they way they should.

Anyway, my ex told me they seemed fine, but I knew they weren’t.

When my dad was driving me back to RI in the moving truck, I kept my beloved fishies in a five gallon bucket in my car that was being towed behind the moving truck, same as the way down to SC.  I used oxygen tablets and a portable-water-filter-bubbly thing so they wouldn’t die of asphyxiation or lack of oxygen.  When we stopped for food and bathroom breaks, I would check on them, and they got weaker and more despondent.  By the time we made it to RI from SC, 19 hours of nearly straight driving later, they were dead.

I was devastated.  My dad had to get rid of them while I left all my things in the moving truck and went upstairs and cried for hours, even though it was 4am and I hadn’t slept in more than a day.  I loved them.  I wish I had pictures of them.  I miss them so much.

RIP Kronk and Jimm.