R.I.P.

Every winter our boiler breaks (because the house we rent is old and the boiler is even older). It can get pretty chilly while we wait for a repair man and Monday it got down to 52 degrees in here! Sadly, that was too cold for Grandpa Ron (not to be confused with our actual grandpa). Tate's little beta friend died. I actually saw him floating oddly in the morning, but he wasn't belly up on top so I thought he was just hiding from me. I had Sean look at him at dinner and he quickly recognized it. I felt dumb, but I guess they can sink too.

We called Tate over and told him that Grandap Ron had died because it was too cold. This was a really tough conversation to have with no preparation. Sean wanted to show him the body, I wanted to hide it. I said the fish went to heaven, Sean said it would go down the toilet into the ocean and "be happy there". Hmmmm, never thought through our fish theology before. It took Tate a minute to grasp what we meant, he kept saying we just need to feed him more and he will come back alive. Poor buddy. Then he cried. I actually shed a couple of secret tears myself. Not for the fish obviously I've been wishing them dead for awhile , but my heart just hurts for our little guy experiencing his first loss. Gracie and Benny were pretty sweet to him at first, although they kept saying he's DEAD, he DIED over and over. Finally, Gracie and Tate were talking and decided that if all three fish die they will "EARN A DOG!!!"
Huh? Not sure where that came from, and we told them that wasn't how it works, but they are pretty sure. I think they think it will be gifted to them from the pet fairy or something and 3 dead fish=one live puppy.
I suspect poor Molly and Tutu may have some kind of tragic "accident" soon if we aren't careful.