Today Luciano Pavorotti, and my beta fish, Sweet Dee met the very same fate. He of pancreatic cancer, she of presumed terrorism by my house cats, and record valley heat. But they both were important to me. I went to a progressive sort of preschool where we listened to opera and classical music. When I'd come home and my Mom would ask what I'd done, she tells me all I was interested in telling her was "I had listened to Luchy." Not crayons of bubbles, play-doh or puzzles.
If you spend any time around me you know I cannot survive without music. At work or getting ready for my day. I need it to be whole. And I like it in any box it comes to me in. Whether it's a large Italian tenor, Australian country singer, Dutch trance dj, or country girl turned pop singer. Where Pavorotti in preschool stopped, the rest of my life sort of picked up.
So today I say goodbye to both Luchy and Sweet Dee. Both sweet, only one with ability to breathe underwater.
Sweet Dee came to me out of a need to have a pet in my kitchen. I couldn't fathom any other reason to go in that room. Once I'd dropped several pellets and she swam swam swam to the surface to eat, my work in the kitchen was done. I'd check on her often, mostly as a result of my untrustfworthy felines. But in the end, her death seemed to be just a long battle with being an old fish.
I really will miss her.
As I will miss them both.
