Last night, I ventured into my bedroom to feed my beloved finned friends, and get ready for bed. I made my usual feeding rounds. First Yuki, then Pixi, etc. On my way over to Kaida, my beloved fish, whom I've owned for 4 years, was on the bottom, his eyes were emotionless and eerie. I broke down crying. Sounds silly, huh. But I really loved him. I rescued him from a crappy Wal-Mart store that shouldn't have even been selling bettas. I saw him, and it was love at first sight. I knew he was the one. He was gorgeous. His eyes were dark blue, his body jet black, and his fins a bright orange. He looked like fire the way he swam. So majestic and beautiful. I was set on the name Kaida, which in Japanese meant, "little dragon". He was my little dragon, small, yet brave, bold yet beautiful. When I'd put my finger up to the tank, he'd greet me by following my finger and smacking his lips as he did a little dance. He was my very first betta fish, and he was my best friend for the four years that I had him, and he always will be.
<3 R.I.P Kaida, my beloved veiltail boy <3 May you always swim peacefully and with grace in the heavens, under the rainbow bridge.