Ramblin’ Prose

When you can’t remember the last time you changed the water in the fish tank, is that a bad thing?

Our current incarnation of Goldie or Rosie or whatever the thing is called these days has been in water that hasn’t been changed in quite some time. I’d use a colorful phrase that’s been uttered around the house but we might get picketed.

After the first couple of weeks, the tank got real cloudy and we could barely see the thing swimming; it could’ve been belly up at any time except for the fact that it dutifully rises to the top twice a day to chow down on its fish flakes.

I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but the tank’s not as cloudy as it was. And there aren’t micro organisms growing on the glass. Heck, you can see the little girl doing her thing as well as you could the last time we changed the water.

All this makes me wonder: Are we really ready for a dog?

The kids have been in the market for one for awhile. Abby makes noise about it every so often, offering to clear a space in her room, etc., etc.

But they barely remember we even have a fish!

When it comes down to it, and I’m sure Susan would admit it too, it would really be MY dog.

So the question I’ve got to ask myself: Am I ready to be a dad again?

We’ve (I’ve) narrowed down the breed thanks to a visit with Sue not too long ago: a cairn terrier. They’re hypoallergenic and need to be considering the amount of mucus produced by this family’s membranes.

Heavy sigh.

Help me Obi-Wan!