Farewell, Mr. Darcy...

Well, I just listened to a voicemail left about 15 minutes ago by my wonderful 7 yr. old nephew, Tucker Stanley.
"Hi, um, Auntie, this is me Tucker..I just wanted to tell you that your fish died. Mr. Darcy died. Bye. This is a message."

This is indeed sad. I bought Mr. Darcy last year, right after I graduated, I think. He was little, and had fierce zebra stripes. He had the appetite of a herd of cows and enjoyed the shiny marble-type rocks that I carefully poured into his $6 fishbowl every few weeks when I changed the water. I usually put blue or green rocks on the bottom. The one time I put orange ones in there...he hid for a few days...under them.

I'm really surprised he didn't die sooner, actually. When I moved down here to Connecticut, I gave Mr. Darcy to Tucker. He asked to take care of him when I moved, so I let him have the fish. He actually took really good care of him, ya know, always telling his mom (my sister, Sue) when SHE should clean the bowl and change the water. And, for his sister Ellie's birthday, in October, he gave her Mr. Darcy as a present, under the condition that he stays in Tuck's room, but Ellie would have to feed him. (Tucker was sick of the smell of the fish food.) He did talk to Mr. Darcy, like I had always done, and he did call to tell me. What a sweet little boy.