My sister bought me a Pearlscale goldfish for my birthday. As much as I didn't want a fish, I have to admit he's a cute little bugger. He's light and dark orange with black spots and since he's a pearlscale, he's all fat and round like he's pregnant. So he doesn't swim, he waddles

Didn't want a fish, but I've got him, and his name is Jericho. And I'll be damned if he isn't one hardy little bastard. Our cat knocked his tank over- like completely over, water everywhere. I walk in my room after having left the house for an hour to find my desk flooded. And there's poor little Jericho on his side with like a centimeter of water surrounding him. Who knows how long he was like that. And yet, he lives.

I mean I saw it coming, like Cat + Fish = Bad. Duh. And Our Ruu-cat is just the most stubborn, unruly, gets-into-everything, little brat.

I told my sis that getting a fish was a bad idea. I freakin' told her. But she also happens to be a stubborn, unruly, gets-into-everything and always-gets-her-own-way, little brat. (But don't tell her I said that )

In any case, Jericho is alive and well. Just thought I'd let everyone know that my goldfish had a near-death experience >,> Because I know you all care deeply for him.