R.I.P.–”Studebaker”
September 5th, 2007 by screenwriterguy
Alas, I must report the death of my Siamese fighting fish, Studebaker. Some of us remember Studebaker as the co-star of a little comedy short we shot back in May. Most of us just know him as a free spirit too stupid not to attack his own reflection.
It seems like only months ago that I entered the pet store. I knew that my heart was so overflowing with love that I was wiling to spend as much as $1.99 to share it. The kindly adoption agent in the blue apron explained my options: either a betta, likely to live several years, or a goldfish, unlikely to last more than a week. It was a strange dilemma. The cold, utilitarian producer inside me knew that opting to spend a quarter on a goldfish would mean coming in under budget. Plus, there was a certain virtue to disposable performers. However, in the end, my inner pet owner won out. My inner pet owner had been expecting, perhaps, more affection than the daily fin-flapping posture at meal times, communicating Studebaker’s tiny-brained desire, all said and done, to crush my gills and see my carcass float to the top of the bowl.
It was perhaps as much of a commitment as I have made yet to the idea that I will live in L.A. on the long-term. I think it was the blue-aproned adoption agent’s admission that Studebaker could happily go a week without me feeding him that put me over the top.
I’m not sure exactly what was the cause of Studebaker’s death. Who can say? It may have been his head smashing against a rock as I lovingly poured him back into his newly cleaned bowl this morning. Then again, it may just as well have been old age. Or perhaps popcorn fumes. In any event, I’m sure Studebaker is in a much happier place now. That place being the L.A. county sewer system.
Studebaker’s next of kin, his adoptive father, has asked that remembrances be directed to Studebaker’s adoptive father. PayPal accepted.
Similar Posts:
Posted in My Journey |
Sep 8th 2007 at 6:42 pm
Sorry for your loss.