Birthday wishes, and a story

Happy Birthday, MoxieVanilla!

My sister reports that all she wants for her birthday is a new pet fish, and tells of the enticingly aquarium-shaped present that has appeared from her husband. This reminded me of a story from our childhood, and what better gift could I give my sister than a slightly eccentric childhood story, published on the Internet?

There were no furry pets in our household growing up because of allergies. Abundant allergies to fuzzy creatures. Instead, my sister at a very young age became something of a connoisseur of furless pets: fish, newts, axelotles, frogs, toads, iguanas, you name it.

I believe her first foray beyond the basic fish tank was the frogs. My mother informed me that she would be getting my sister some frogs for her birthday, but she needed to hide them for a week or so, and could she please hide them in my closet? Knowing, of course, that in my 13-year-old's obsessive need to keep my kid sister from TOUCHING MY STUFF, hiding the frogs in my closet was akin to locking them up in Fort Knox.

And yet, I was reluctant. It seemed kind of gross, somehow, to have these slimy creatures sitting underneath my clothing. What if they splashed icky water on my favorite pants? Made all my clothes smell swamp-like? Or worst of all, ESCAPED. How would I sleep all week, knowing that I might awake to find a frog planted on my face?

But I gave in, and in due time the frogs were smuggled into my closet. I had to admit they were kinda cute. There was a lid, so unless they had mad Houdini skills, they weren't likely to escape.

The next morning, I yawned and stretched and went to my closet to pick out my outfit. And there the frogs were - floating, dead, upside down in the tank.

It turned out that although my mother (a biologist) had de-chlorinated the water, the frogs actually needed pure distilled water. This, of course, is why frogs are canaries in the ecological coalmine, bellweather animals who are among the first to go when water quality goes bad. But I cared little of that in the moment. I just cared that my first encounter of the day had been with dead amphibians. IN MY CLOSET.

New frogs were procured, and with some difficulty my mother convinced me that she had figured out how to keep them alive this time. They survived the week in my closet and were received on the birthday with great joy, as planned.

So I hope, Moxie, that you receive a much-wished-for fish today with great joy, and perhaps some amused appreciation for all the efforts that have gone into procuring your furless friends over the years. Happy Birthday!