The picture is Finding Nemo off the site of the film.
All creatures in this story is the goldfish – whom I named: Buster – and his pals, of course, which Becki – my older daughter – received as a present one year in Ireland. I used to say and still say to the girls: ”Do not take another animal as a pet if you have not the time to look after them.” That was when we were all travelling hither and tither in particular. Anyhow, she took these fish and the gear that came with ’em.
I had never realized just how smart such a small creature like a goldfish can be: Buster got his name from the fact that he, too, took to liking his nosh and it showed on him; let us put it that way, instead of saying that he was obese. (Tips on feeding the fish in this link.) Every morning when I went downstairs to the kitchen to have me coffee, Buster would be doing his special pirouettes, whirling dances, twirling this way, hurling that way, giving the merry faces to greet me, and at the same time, for sure, making certain that the breakfast was served to him and his mates in the tank.
He got to know us in the house so much so that he would do the above mentioned spiel every time he saw one of us, but if anybody he did not know went near his tank, he would go hiding in a jiffy inside one of the toys there. Now that I think of it: Finding Nemo reminded me of Buster and that is why I like that movie so much. Buster went into a foster care because we all left Ireland and he had a very happy life there for a long while until his death.
And death is the hardest part in having pets as they do become such valuable members of the family that when they are gone – it gets so ’empty.’
Tis for now. Rii xx