Death in the Family

Today I failed as a father.

Fortunately for my unborn children, I'm not actually a father yet. Unfortunately for Emily and her pet fish Zia, I was acting caretaker of Zia. The story is pretty simple... it goes something like this:


I quit my job on Christmas Eve so that I could flaunt off to my hometown and celebrate the holidays with my friends. Sadly I was the only person left in Tucson and was supposed to be taking care of Zia. Four days later I finally return to Tucson and Zia hasn't eaten but is still alive. I try my hardest to feed Zia his food pellets every chance I get, but no matter how many times I try the little guy keeps spitting them back out. I changed his bowl water and was careful to make sure he was adapted to the new water before replacing him to his bowl. He seemed so happy to be back in his bowl... he was swimming circles. I thought maybe if he was feeling so spry that he must be recovering. (Thinking maybe that he's nibbling off the treats before spitting them back out, in such a way that he's at least eating a little.)


I was wrong though, and about an hour ago I saw him on the floor of his bowl. I checked back only 10 minutes ago and couldn't get him to move for any reason. That was the point that I knew I had failed as a father. I called Emily and told her what happened, not surprisingly she sounded upset. I probably won't be allowed to take care of any pets for awhile...

I'm definitely angry with myself for this. I'm sure if I was a good boy and I stayed in town like was expected this wouldn't have happened. But I can't say this is all that surprising, at least in my own mind. I have always failed at taking care of plants and animals. I love animals and would never intentionally abandon or starve one. But while Zia is the first animal to die on my watch, he wasn't the first animal I have failed. Other pets have been returned to their rightful owners before my sorry attempt at a caretaker could ruin it. In the same way I havn't been able to keep a plant alive long enough for anyone to even remember that I've owned one. Someday I know I'll get the hang of it, and I feel like today is my wake-up call.

For now however I'll lay this moment before me and study it fully. Zia deserves to be a memory not easily forgotten. His death wasn't meant to come today, and I feel slightly haunted by my decisions. Zia forgive me, I am truly sorry.