Our pond fish, named Matt and Dillon by their previous owners, have both recently died. Chris took the first one last week and tossed it over the hill!!! I was, needless to say, horrified, and I sent him back outside when he told me (at 10:30 p.m.) to look for the fish to give it a proper burial. It was a PET, for crying out loud. But he couldn't find it.
Then a few days ago, the other fish died. We let it sit there a few days, thinking maybe it had gone to sleep for the winter. No, I'm not kidding. After it floated, I told Chris he needed to bury that poor thing. He was a little afraid, however, that he'd killed the other fish who was really just asleep, so he did a little research, and if they float, they're dead. So tonight Izzy talked his dad into burying the last fish.
This was his eulogy, written and delivered by Izzy:
"Dear Lord, I hope you go to Jesus. I hope you go to the good place where there are dead fish and dead animals. I hope you go to the pet doctor where they save lots of dead fish. I hope you go to where the sharks are and they don't eat you and you get all better. Amen."
Amen, indeed.
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