My little trooper

Reading kool keith's post about preparing some water for wacko reminded me that it was about that time for Taco's "bath" so to speak. So I prepped some water, oh I don't know, I think it was last Thursday or Friday with the intentions of changing his H20 as soon as the water got itself all conditioned and room temperature-ish. Yeah, well, the new water sat there by his mini-tank for days and days and days. This morning I finally got down to switching him over. I went over to him to say good morning (Yes, I know he's just a fish, but he's my little pal.) and I found him floating on his side.

Oh. my. god.

So I stooped over so we were eye to eye and he got himself upright and glared at me for a second, as if to say "Change my water already, you stoopid ho!" and then went back to "chilling" on his side. Poor little guy.

His little tank got a good scrubbing, and now he's all swimmy-spectacular again. Hopefully he doesn't mess with my mind like that for a while to come.

Chicosan, his predecessor, died shortly after my radiation treatment finished. I was choked. My dad had given me Chicosan as a feel-better present..."someone" to keep my spirits up (not that my family didn't do that themselves.) Taco came along to represent a new start, or I'd like to think he did.

He's been a tough little guy, even surviving my godson's excessive curiosity. A fighter, Taco is. Amazing how inspirational a little fish can be.