The pet store near work…sucks.  In the sense that ALL pet stores suck, they sell kitties that you could get free from a neighbour (or adopt at a shelter), puppies bred at puppy mills and lizards from who knows where. Not to mention exotic birds that have no business being in Canada (or a cage) and a wide assortment of rodents.

And fish. And this store hires people that offer BAD fish expertise, it was here that I was told that I must use a cleaning product to get rid of the poop in my pond, which I did do, assuming they were the experts, and one of my fish promptly DIED. A horrible, pain filled, miserable death. That was Kelly #1, she was maybe 14 years old but at least 12, a plain, old, boring ‘feeder’ fish.

Ok, so anyway, I do go in there occasionally to buy fish food for long weekends.  And I do like looking at kitties and puppies and rodents and fish. I love the fish, I love the plecostamus, at the store they’re so tiny, smaller than my pinky finger, unlike Brenda, my pleco, who’s as long as my forearm.  This garbage bin was sitting on the floor beside the tanks with one small fish, dead, laying in it.  It made me sad, poor little fish, no friends, all alone, dead.

She’s the tiny orange blob you can barely see.