My Betta is named Lucky. I found him, in of all places a "Discount Home Goods" store, in New Haven, CT. Four days before, I had left rehab, and moved into a sober house. I was furnishing my room, which brought me to the store. This place thought it was OK to sell Betta fish as "home decor"! There were 5 cups there... Not even deli cups, like at major chain pet stores. These fish were in cups like shot glasses. I was horrified! 2 were dead, 2 were swimming sideways, but one very plain blue/black trooper was still upright and though his fins drooped far below his belly... He was alive, with only a tiny bit of fun rot. I told him
"Today is your lucky day!"
So with six shopping bags hanging off my arms, to my room we went. I quickly got on a popular shopping website, and got medicine, a 2.5 g. tank, and some plants and got Lucky set up.
Later that week, I stood outside the store with a petition sheet asking the store to stop selling fish. I succeeded in getting over 100 signatures of people pledging to boycott the store, if they continued to sell live animals, and assured the store owner I would not desist. HE AGREED TO STOP SELLING THE FISH! Yay!
Lucky is the smartest fish I ever met. He is not only trained to give kisses (through the glass), but will choose to give affection to me, BEFORE he eats, even with food already in the water. He is also very, weirdly, passive. His own image in a mirror, he looks at, tucks his fins, and hides.
I have since, left the sober house (due to it not being so sober....). Yep. I'm homeless. I couch surf, and sleep outdoors. LUCKY IS STILL WITH ME. He now hangs in a container with a lid, that I carry around with me. The stress of homeless living would kill many a small pet, but every day, Lucky is there for me, and I for him. He's my best friend in the world, and he gives me a reason to keep going, no matter what, because I want him to be happy.
I'm really the lucky one.