A tale of two goldfish

About 6 years ago, I had a fish tank stocked with these stupid aggressive fish that needed to eat these .5 cent feeder goldfish. I bought a couple and tossed em in, presumably to their doom - woke up the next morning to find all of the fish dead, no: massacred, except for the 5 cent feeder fish and his buddy. These fish won the respect of my family through sheer gladiatorial victory. They could stay.

5 years went by and these 2 best friend ninjas got huge. Like almost as big as those fish you see in sushi places, until one day we find one of them belly up. Put that guy out to pasture (read: toilet), only to find the other fish wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t eat. Just sat there for 3 months at the bottom of the tank nearly motionless. 

He sort of came to life one morning as mom went to drop some fish food in there, wiggled to the top, and waited on his side, pretending to be dead. Mom literally started petting him on his side, whispering mom stuff to him, and he slowly realized how silly his suicide attempt was. 

That little guy went along like this for another year, feeding, petting, swimming, until he finally gave up the ghost this week, far outliving his 5 cent quota. We never named either of them, partially out of fear, partially out of respect. They will both live on in our hearts.