And then a hero comes along

The girls wanted a pet. I wanted to give the girls a pet. 

Emilia designed a Titanic-themed background for Lucy's tank

Everything in between seemed a lot more complicated. 

We can’t have a dog because we don’t have a house. We can’t have a cat because cats make Matt’s eyes swell and water, his nose run and his skin itch. We can’t have anything in the rodent family because I’m 80% sure Phoebe would appreciate it to death. 

When we narrowed the list based on allergies, logistics and likelihood of accidental death, all that was left was “fish.” 

The girls were fine with that idea, so in August, before school started, we ran over to PetsSmart to peruse their fish inventory. The girl on fish duty gave us the once-over and recommended a Betta because they are “hardy.” Clearly she could see that this fish was in for a wild ride, filled with dirty fingers and neglect. 

Emilia and Grace chose the biggest male betta they could find, marked by red and purple spots on a background of pale gills. We bought a tank, food and water conditioner, some hot pink gravel, a few plants and a cartoonish yellow submarine for shelter. 

The girls named their fish Charlie. We brought him home and let him stay in his small store-supplied apartment until his tank and water were ready. 

That night, safe in his new home, Charlie seemed happy if not apprehensive. He swam gingerly, exploring the pump mechanics and checking out the square footage of his submarine. The girls said goodnight to their new charge and went up to bed, but I lingered. 

Charlie and I made eye contact. The meaningful kind. I never really liked fish, but maybe I’d like this one. 

That night in bed, while Matt read, I googled betta details, trying to better understand how their fish minds work and what they like and how to entertain them. I learned that there are small floating betta mirrors you can provide for brief periods of gill-flaring exercise, and that there are betta hammocks that suction to the inside of the tank and provide a place to rest. 

I put a betta hammock in our Amazon cart. 

The next morning, I came downstairs early, planning to meet a friend for a pre-dawn walk. On my way to the door, I stopped by Charlie’s tank. He was taking a very motionless nap on the bottom. 

I braced myself when the girls came downstairs, ready for a lengthy conversation about the fragility of fish life. 

But death is not a new concept for them. Also, they hadn’t had the late-night eye-contact session Charlie and I had. They took his passing in stride, asking when we’d get his replacement. 

They were ready to start over, but I wasn’t. 

I read that pale bettas are usually sick. I think we just got Charlie when he was already on his last fin. I don’t think it was anything we’d done… Plus, what a cool submarine! 

A few weeks later, we returned to PetSmart. This time, Grace picked the only female betta available. She was small and plain, without the ostentatious fins and showy rainbow scales. The girls named her Lucy.

And luckily, Lucy is still alive. Hungry. Scrappy. Intent on survival, even when her water got murky. Even when we accidentally fed her twice in one night. Even when Phoebe smacks the side of her tank with eager, sticky palms. 

I’d like to attribute Lucy’s strength and perseverance to her gender, but it also might be due to the fact that she is just healthy, and hardy. 

Recently, Emilia was “Student of the Week” at school. Part of her special week included filling out a poster about her life. One section required her to write about her own superhero. 

“Will it be me?” I wondered. “Or Matt? It’s totally going to be Matt. Or maybe someone inspiring like her grandparents or a good friend or Amelia Earhart.” 

I left Emilia to decide on her own, resisting the urge to campaign for the position. When I came back, she’d chosen her hero. It was Lucy. Apparently they’d been doing homework together lately, and Emilia felt her pet's quiet academic support had earned her the honor. 

Over the last few months, Lucy has flitted and floated her way into our hearts. She is well fed, well loved and well attended to. I’ve given myself the responsibility of daily wellbeing checks, tapping aggressively on the tank to make sure her naps are just naps. 

Thank you, Lucy, for being a wonderful first pet for our girls. (Sorry, Charlie, you have to stay alive for more than 24 hours to count.) Someday we'll graduate to something with fur. Maybe even a dog after that. Until then, I feel confident enough to call you a member of the family. Your hammock should be here in 2-3 business days.