My son got his first beta fish. It was a late Christmas gift. We named him Snook. He was with us for just a short time. But he was a beautiful beta. All different colors and his fins were so long and flowing.
See the story is much the same as any. Kid gets a fish and doesn't understand that you can't actually play with them. They aren't puppies or kittens. You can't pet them, hug them, love them.
But then someone, Aunt Rhinoseeker, sits at the table and just has to keep trying to pet the fish. She just has to touch him. Now Snook wasn't the play with me type. More of a touch me not. Imagine that!
This gives my son the idea. He has to play with it.
A little later, he is sitting at the table, and starts screaming bloody murder! I have no clue whats wrong but I go in thinking, "he's hurt"!
No. Not even close.
My son, who doesn't understand everything the way most kids his age do, has been playing with Snook alright. There is water all over the table, his pants are wet, and there is Snook, the beautiful beta, floating in the top of the bowl.
His long flowing fins have ALL been ripped off! He was still alive, watching pieces of his fins sink to the bottom of the bowl.
Aunt Rhinoseeker, got the honor of flushing Snook, sending him to the great fish bowl in the sky. Meanwhile, my son, doesn't understand that he murdered his fish. And I have no clue how to explain it to him.
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