Still not sure how it happened, but Willie, after giving what he’ll concede was an hour’s thought on the subject, went out and bought a fish tank.
And why the hell not? He’s full grown! If he wants a fish tank, he gets a fish tank.
A 20-gallon tank is not an enormous tank, as I’m sure you know. Still, it’s a small room. I can see us having to get rid of a piece of furniture in the future…
Did you know that a gate-fold album cover, opened, is the exact width of the back of the fish tank? Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy is the backdrop.
That sort of thing can change the tone of a room.
Spatial weirdness/naked atzec pyramid toddlers aside, I like the living element, if you will, in the room.
But as you can probably tell, I don’t have anything to do with the tank other than enjoy it.
I’m not the only one appreciating the tank though, and Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) has quieted considerably under its hypnotic spell. Well, that and the catnip in the pot with the lights on it in the basement she thinks I don’t know about. Yeah. That might have something to do with her winter torpor.
Liza Bean, AKA Bitey, AKA The Spy Who Loved Me opens the lid to the tank at her leisure and peers intently into the water. She can stay that way for a very long time. The end of her tail twitches as she stares, and it is at these times that I imagine I hear her muttering something about a whaling ship.
She’s recently added “dry white cooking wine” and “one fresh lemon” to the grocery list on the fridge.
I’ve spoken to Willie about securing the lid with a mechanism that requires thumbs, but until we can find something Liza can’t open, the Webster’s Deluxe Unabridged Dictionary – the largest book I’ve got – is sitting on top of the aquarium.
Those are pets. Not appetizers.