Fish

My life has been taken over by the cold virus. There is nothing anyone can do, because I am not bad off enough to do anything but complain. I hurt all over and there is Vick’s VapoRub on my chest. I could stop most of the complaining with a hot shower, so that is where I’m headed once you find out that I like keeping animals in water as decoration and because I crave taking care of something that doesn’t need me too much. I am saving that kind of love and attention for my service dog. It seems unfair to get a small dog or cat knowing they’re a placeholder for another animal. My sister and I have talked about all kinds of things, from a turtle to a betta fish. It’s all I have time to do, look.

I have a shower curtain with a turtle on it, and right now that is pet enough. That being said………….

The best day of my little autistic life was receiving Othello, my Black Moor goldfish, when I was nine. The worst day is learning that you are not rescuing a goldfish by putting it in a bowl. They grow quickly, and they basically fold in on themselves; their guts twist to accommodate being a big fish in a small pond. Now, I will not keep goldfish at all, because there is no place to return or dump them when they get too big for your setup. Ohio Fish Rescue does not have enough room for everybody on earth’s failings as a pet owner, so buy smart. I’m thinking a small community aquarium, even at five gallons. That is plenty enough for a betta fish, his plants, and his cleaning crew. Males are flashy, so I want a boy living in my house (in this case).

I’m going to be buying smart because my service dog is a big investment, and I have three women telling me that I need a pet (well, Supergrover said I needed a dog and a gun… while I appreciate the sentiment, she’s the trained shot and I cannot hit the broad side of a barn – mental illness says “don’t tempt me into holding my beer” even with training)….

“I know me. We’ve met.” -Matt Borum, circa 2003

Fish seem to be the best answer for now. I do not want a cat because I will not clean up after it. I will buy disposable litter boxes and throw them out every day because I hate the smell so much I will throw up. I am a strong enough man to admit that while I love cats, the sensory experience of cleaning a litter box is for someone who lives with me that owns a cat. I’m not capable. I say this because my sister said, “why don’t you get a cat?” I had to explain to her that Dana took pity on me long ago and let me trade out cleaning the cat box for other chores…. but not until she saw actual vomit on the cat shit. Therefore, I do not want to go back to disposable litter boxes and hoping that another girlfriend sees me for the pathetic cat owner I am. To me, solving the problem is not air freshener or a magic litter box that doesn’t have a smell, because they don’t exist.

The solution is not getting a cat.

This is why my Serbian housemate’s cat was such a problem to me. She was allowed to keep a cat in her room. Periodt. But she liked going to Serbia, and she told my landlady that when she was gone, the cat was my responsibility. She was going to leave for a month and just not tell me. No one in our house would have let a cat die, but it was a shitty thing for an owner to do.

I have enough trouble taking care of my own problems, but today has been a victory. Evey Winters, writer and advocate, said she’d work with me to bring The Sinners’ Table to life. She’s the first trans person I followed on my professional account, and she lives an hour from me.

Life is strange. You come up with an idea in 2024, but it takes flight when it has permission to breathe. Someone slighted me, and The Sinners’ Table was the answer. Everyone is a traitor to something, most often themselves. Find community. Find love where you think it isn’t.

Peer support from actual peers. The one who will do Lent with you instead of just Easter. In the end, it’s all fish.