I’m telling you, the pet adventures around here never end.
Just this morning, my daughter called me up to her room saying her fish Carl had died. I got the net, scooped him out of the tank, and put him in the toilet.
I was just about to flush when she screamed,
“Wait! He’s still breathing!”
Sure enough, even though he looked dead, his gills were still moving. Barely.
It wasn’t easy getting him out.
It turned out to be quite the scene, actually–me leaning over the toilet stirring the water with the net to create a current so Carl would hopefully get swished back up to where I could scoop him, my daughter standing over one shoulder screaming, “Poor Carl!” and my son standing over the other shoulder shouting, “Get him, Mom! Get him! You have to save him!”
It took twenty minutes (I was not reaching my hands in there), but we finally got him out.
And the whole crazy scene sort of reminded me of the time I woke up to crickets all over the house. :))