Bad Picture Day

As the owner of a DSLR this entry is embarrassing, but I’m just so excited about my latest purchase that I have to share . . . Footnote: pics not taken with the DSLR!

Last night Karlo and I went to PetsMart to get dog food. This was finally my big chance to get some fish. Seems like buying fish is an incredibly difficult task for me because we need to arrange the shopping so buying the fish is the last errand before hitting the road to home. The fish can only survive in the plastic bags so long and our commute home is always at least 20 -30 minutes. I insisted that Karlo and I eat dinner out at 4:30 last night just so our trip to PetsMart was our last errand of the night.

So I picked out a new male guppy (to replace the recently departed Fred) and another colorful little platy and while I was there I finally got my goldfish. It’s been a month since I filled our little pond in preparation for them. I couldn’t have been happier. I picked 5 of the cutest goldfish (two of which are actually white with gold spots) and watched them swimming around in the plastic bag all the way home. Karlo was very patient during this shopping expedition, which was odd. He never has any patience when it comes to my fish buying. I think he was just waiting to use his line about these new goldfish becoming a great appetizer for the blue heron that stalk our big pond every day. I gasped in horror, “Do you really think they will eat my goldfish???” Karlo’s reply was, “Of course they will! What do you think will happen?” I swear this was the moment that he was happily waiting for. He was just so pleased to burst my little bubble.

But that was OK. I decided that I’m not going to stress about it. We got home and after inspecting the now disgusting water, Karlo agreed to drain, wash, and refill the pond. Maybe he felt bad for rubbing in the fact that my new pets will be tomorrow’s dinner for the big birds.

Here’s the scene of my now clean pond with the fish in it. You have to look really hard to see the fish.

And this picture is so bad that I’m going to call it “art.”


I can't wait to get home and take inventory . . .