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Brian Boitano survived without me for three full days. I was relieved to come home and find him alive and only slightly delirious.

I don’t think he’s quite as hearty as my favorite fish, Buster, who lived to be approximately 150 (five) years old. Buster was sort of my fish soul mate. He liked to travel, was fiercely independent, ate happily and appreciated a good nap. He seemed to particularly enjoy Law and Order SVU. Either that, or the “dun dun” sound upset his tiny fish ears to the point of activity.

Brian seems to be a little more sensitive. He’s afraid of his food and he usually misjudges the amount of force he’ll need to consume it. Although he is generally good-natured, he panics when he reaches the edge of his bowl and swims as hard as he can into what must look like the infinite vastness of my apartment. I’ve conducted multiple experiments to figure out if he’s actually swimming at his own reflection, but my results are inconclusive.

Most of my friends have cats and/or babies. For now, I’m pretty satisfied with my fish.