First we got Ken, a red male beta fish. We thought it would be cool. I've had beta fish before, one even lasted a couple of years. Ken only lived a few months. Over Christmas weekend, Ken was left in an unheated room (cough, Alan, cough) and died when his water was too cold. Luke was sad until we told him we could get a new one.
Enter Abooka. That's what Luke named her. She was a blue female beta. She, sadly, also only lasted a few months. About a week ago, Luke woke me up holding the fish in this shot glass. He was trying to change her water (or so he says). After a long talk about "not touching the fish", I thought he had learned his lesson.
Until yesterday, when Luke came into my room saying:
"I think Abooka is dead"
Me: "Why?"
Luke: "She's not moving"
Me: "Did you touch her?"
Luke: "No, I think daddy fed her too much"
Me: "Your shirt is wet, are you sure you didn't touch her?"
Luke: "I didn't do anything."
At which point I went to check things out in the kitchen (where the fish bowl is). What a scene, water everywhere and a lifeless fish who had obviously been squished. Next Luke was sent to timeout.... hence the picture above. Boy does he look guilty. Don't be fooled, he's not upset that the fish is dead, he kept asking for a new one.
I don't think he meant to kill it. He doesn't quite understand how fragile something so small is and he doesn't understand the permanence of death. I guess what I'm most upset about is that he lied about it. I've read that it's a natural reaction for kids but I don't like it.
Anywho, no more fish for now.