On January 12, 2003, A.W. the Betta Fish committed suicide.
A.W. was a good fish. He didn't make much noise nor did he ever demand too many new toys. While he was not especially good at retaining knowledge, he was nevertheless on a constant search for it. It is understandable that he was feeling a little depressed and disoriented. He had spent how many months sitting on the shelf at Wal Mart (which people can tell you is depressing enough) but he was then moved to at least three new environs (bowls only, not including placement of said bowls) and had embarked on two road trips to the wild northlands around Chicago. This is a difficult thing for any fish to say, let alone a small albino Betta.
A.W. had been doing ok once we returned to Funkytown, but after two days of watching the entire first season of OZ and watching me play Blood Omen 2 for almost seven hours straight, A.W. decided that there was little more to live for. Understandable when you consider that that many successive hours without sleep with bright flashing lights is disagreeable to anyone (except doped up ravers).
A.W. will be missed, but for the three months he shared my home, he was always a good listener and a good source of fish shit that had to be cleaned, thereby giving some sort of schedule to my life.
Good Bye A.W. Wherever it is that suicidal fish go, hope it makes you happier than my kitchen apparently did.