R.I.P. Buttercup

So yesterday before leaving for our zoo trick-or-treat outing, I found our new fish Buttercup dead. Poor thing. I blame Westley, in part, for her early demise.

See, when I rescued them several weeks ago, both fish were passive and calm, likely due to the shit they swam around in. They weren't feeling spry. But as soon as fresh water and regular food became a part of their lives, Westley became mean. I knew Bettas are fighting fish, but I hoped (rather fancifully, as you can tell by their names) that paired mates would be different. Alas, no.

Westley cannot use one of his pectoral fins; its paralyzed, but I don't know why. He circles the bowl all day, looking for something to beat on. Buttercup took to hiding under shells for protection, shunning food to avoid her bully of a partner. It would be as if Cary Elwes's Westley really behaved like a dread pirate, sat around drinking all day and lamenting the loss of one limb, and whopped Buttercup across the face whenever she flashed him those insipid blue eyes.

When I found Buttercup yesterday morning, Westley had stripped off most of her scales. Nasty, poor thing. Flushed to the big fishie graveyard. So now I have one fish left to take care of, the bully bastard who's responsible for killing both of my girl fishies. But maybe it's not his fault. Life turned him that way.

Halloween updates coming tomorrow.

If she seems cold and bitter, then I beg of you,
Just stop and consider all she's gone through.
"Life Turned Her That Way" by Ricky Van Shelton

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