Merle: a thread.
1)
Three years and four months ago, I bought a bedraggled, half-dead Betta sealed in a cup of rancid water. I fully expected him not to last the day.

I babied him, spoiled him and Merle thrived.
Bigger tanks, tastier snacks.
A friend called Jerome LaCoste.
2) Bettas live, on average, three to five years. I've no idea how old Merle was when I bought him.

He was missing half his fins. He looked desperately unhappy.

I bought him out of pity. A pity fish.

But he blossomed.
3) Merle started building bubble nests.

He greeted me with enthusiastic wiggles when I came home from work.
He even learned to come when I called him, like a tiny flaming aquatic spaniel.

I had a fish friend.
4) Thinking he needed a buddy, I bought Porter, a lovely snail. Then another snail called Clay Basket.
As a rule, Bettas don't get on with most fish.

Both snails inches along to their eventual ends.
4) Then I found a lovely little plecostomus.
We called him Jerome LaCoste, and they became fast friends.

Bubble nests, new and bigger tanks, plants and ceramic sunken ships abounded.

Life went on, as we assume it always will.
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