In the afterlife...

The other day in lab, we were measuring the metabolic rates of goldfish. Basically we set up a little fishy-treadmill and measured all the oxygen they burned as they swam. My little guy was the first to be tested. He was a stud. He swam his little heart out. I was so proud of him, I asked my professor if I could take him home.

In our lab write-up, he’ll be referred to as “Number One”. I figured that was as good a name as any, but Jen renamed him “Uno”

He abruptly died.

We were so bummed about it, (and by “we, I mean “I”) I went to petsmart the next day and went nuts. I had read that as “feeders”, goldfish like somewhere to hide so I bought two plants: $6. Electrolyte-balancing aquarium salt? $3.50. Special bacteria-friendly rocks? $2. Special water treatment to cut down on stress? $4. Two new goldfish? 12 cents a piece.

One of them just died.

I remember working in a ward in downtown Helsinki. It was an impossibly hard area, and the ward was a little odd. After weeks of trying, we FINALLY got an investigator to come to church with us. It was a testimony meeting and you can picture my surprise when the first women to speak talked about the recent death of her cat; “Imagine!” she said, “the chance in the afterlife to SPEAK face-to-face with my cat, like I’m speaking to you now!”

We lost that investigator. But now I hope that’s true. Or at least that Uno will be there.

Come to think of it, the next life will be zoo for me. Two dogs, countless fish, untold amounts of mice, my lizards Fred and Wilma, a couple stray cats I snuck home and kept in my closet, Habeeb the chameleon, Uno, and this last fish that just died.

Maybe I’ll name him then.