It is with great sadness I share the news that my little Spudley, also affectionately known as Norty, passed on to the little aquarium in the sky this morning. Although he wasn’t as well known as his predecessor—only penning one “column” through the years—I felt it only fitting to put a few words together in his honor . . . 
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He began his journey in my home as a miniature replacement for the irreplaceable Buddy, a tiny speck of a vibrant indigo betta, shimmery and energetic and seemingly just what I needed to help me cope following the loss of my little Buddy after nearly two years as my finned companion.

Scanning the dozens of bowls at the pet store, unsure if it was too soon for a new fish just five short days after Buddy’s passing, my eye landed on the only baby betta in stock. No bigger than my thumbnail, he scooted right up to the glass (swimming skills would be somewhat of a work in progress), fins excitedly waving. My heart instantly melted, and I knew right then that he was coming home with me.

Over the next nearly three years, I watched my sometimes sweet, at times temperamental, pet flourish and grow into a beautiful crowntail. Happy to stay in his “starter” bowl, he quickly made it his home, vacuuming the gravel daily with his pointy nose, napping in his matching blue plant, or inspecting the tiny thermometer which briefly resided with him, forming a particular attachment to the suction cup which held it in place.

Feeding time was bright and early, and what an event it became, as he maniacally darted to and fro, making sure to suck down every crumb—in descending size order. Bath time, by contrast, was a bit of an ordeal, one that required more than a little coaxing to delicately transfer his royal highness into a waiting cup while his residence was thoroughly rinsed and freshened.

There were countless holiday celebrations, most with him planted at the center of the dining room table, eagerly staring at the surrounding food as if hoping for a morsel to drop into his bowl. Many a night would find him sitting on the coffee table, keeping me company in front of the television, seemingly engrossed in whatever happened to be on the screen.

On the occasions when I would work from home, my little companion would sit next to me on the desk, surrounded by his fishy toys and his little lamp, as he studied my computer monitor. Eventually, finding my work to be less than inspiring, he would nestle in his plant for nap time, tail facing me so as not to be disturbed by the harsh lighting.

To some, he was just a fish. To me, he was my little finned friend, full of personality and a charm all his own—whether he was greeting me at first light in the morning, or poised just under the surface of the water waiting to make a big splash when the cover came off the bowl.

From the day we made that connection in the pet store, I knew he was going to be a special part of my life. How lucky I was to watch him grow for far longer than most—from baby to the beautiful, fully grown betta he became. It’s never easy losing a pet, but I can only hope his little life was made that much better by being a part of my home.

I known mine was.

Published: August 11, 2019