and lost, tragically.
  1. Fly-y
    Before I understood object permanence, I believed that the earth was home to only one fly, my beloved Fly-y. One day I found him dead on a windowsill and forced my mom to perform a funeral. We cremated him in a tiny mason jar. My grandma bought me a commemorative housefly pin.
  2. Rainbow
    Rainbow was my first real pet - a Siamese fighting fish. One time while I was at school there was an earthquake. While the school was evacuated, all I could picture was my poor Rainbow dead amongst a pile of rubble and shattered glass. He survived the quake but was no match for a tiny piece of paint that dislodged from a small King Tut statuette in his tank and lodged itself into his gill.
  3. Two small guppies
    Whose names I don't remember, and who were the victims of merciless gang-related cannibalism by my brother's two guppies. The tank was too small for those tiny rival gangstaz.
  4. Shimmer
    My beloved goldfish who lasted two glorious years before somehow herniating his air bladder, causing him to permanently loaf about at the top of his tank. He essentially chilled to death. He then literally chilled in my freezer because the ground was too frozen to bury him. We forgot about his corpse until we discovered it behind a steak and some bagged peas while we packed up our house to move years later.
  5. An entire civilization of Sea Monkeys
    I got bored of scooping tiny krill bodies out of the tank and eventually left them to their own free will. Unfortunately, they all starved. My dad became disproportionately angry with me and gave a rousing monologue about cultivating empathy for lifeforms that relied on me for survival.