Yes. I’m a horrible blogger. Moving on.
Do you remember Fish Dinner?
That was when I first got him. March of 2008. Despite being a fish from a fishing game at a festival, and the 2 hour commute home in his little plastic bag, he survived.
He survived me! The horrible person who would leave him home alone in the summer heat with just a holiday food cube for company.
He was such a good fish. Loved people. Liked watching tv too.
When I left Japan he was adopted by ‘new!michele’ (the girl who took over my job and apartment), and I was happy he still had a home.
But when I went back to visit Tokyo in December and enquired after Fish, new!michele had some very sad news.
She had renamed him F-diddy (wish I was creative enough to think of a name like that…). And F-diddy obviously decided that gangsta was how he would live. And die.
New!michele went to Kyoto with a friend for a week. When she arrived back she took one look at the fish tank and thought ‘Where is that fish!’.
She searched high and low for 5 minutes (the apartment isn’t that big) before finding a fish tail and the orange outline of a fish on the floor. Just like a police crime scene. Apparently F-diddy lost his life in a drive-by robo-vaccuming.
RIP Fish Dinner. You were a good fish. You made me laugh, even at your end.