Pets

Pets
  In our neighborhood the Cockrell House  has become affectionately known as the "Green Mile" for pets. Not that we don't love or take care of all God's  creatures, we just have come to grips that it is our role to help them in their transition from this world to the next. To date we have had a hamster, a turtle, a crab, a calf, 5 fish, and as of today 1 stay of exiquiston execution for Duke our 6th attempt at a family dog. Needless to say, he's a nervous animal that longs for human contact. 


  Our latest victim came in the form of Bubbles,one of three fish we purchased as a reward for good behavior for our three sons. As we searched the local pet store for prey, the pet store "dude" assured us that the Oscar fish was virtually indestructible and would die of old age well after the boys go off for college. That was 2 weeks and 1 day ago. As we sat at the dinner table tonight, Asher, the oldest twin asked my wife, "Mommy, what did you do with my fish today?" With this question, a hush fell on what was normally the loudest part of our day. I break the now deafening silence with a booming "everyone  wait here and I'll go check on it," spoken as if I were going to protect them from the unknown forces of evil. Sure enough, we have three little bowls  and only 2 fish. I look around thinking the little sucker has dug a tunnel and escaped only to realize there is a small chair out of place. It has magically scooted incredibly close to the counter where the bowls were placed on the counter top. As I sit back down at the table, my wife looks at me and knows immediately that we have a funeral to plan. To my right sits the twins  anxiously waiting to hear the report from the war front. Obviously, they have no knowledge that death has once again struck, and are  therefore are cleared from questioning. However, straight across from me sits the three year old. I see that his shirt sleeves are wet, something that went unnoticed earlier. He has also developed a sever case of attention defect disease and can no longer keep his eyes FOCUSED on me. "Noah. Have you been playing with Asher's fish," I ask. "Ummm, just a little," he states still shifting his eyes. "Well, where is it Noah? Where have you put him," I continue. "Well dad, I'm not sure" "Not sure" was not the answer I was looking for. "Noah, tell dad what happened to Asher's fish and you won't get into any more trouble than you already are," I say while realizing that more than likely he will. "Well dad, Duke and I wanted to play with the fish but when I picked him out of the bowl he wiggled." "Wiggled?! well son where is he now?," I ask. "Daddy, when he wiggled, I dropped him on the floor and Duke though it was his turn to play with him and I haven't seen him since....you better ask Duke, he might know now."
  Needless to say that with this information tears were shed by Asher then by Noah who had to give his fish to his brother as punishment for killing the other one. As with many nights around our dinner table, we tend to have BIG portions of life lessons and cold leftovers. Our table is small, but what a joy it is to sit down with family each night and listen and learn about each other about our hopes and dreams, our wishes and goals, and yes, our occasional fish killing story.