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This is our royal gramma Sherbet. |
OK, call me the crazy fish lady, but we have named every single one of our fish, and I remember them all, even the ones who are no longer with us: Marley the
yellowtail damsel, Sammy the sixline wrasse (we lost this cute little guy to a carpet-surfing incident), Beatrice the evil
butterflyfish, Tammy the gorgeous sailfin tang, Harvey the sand-sifting goby and the adorable firefish One Love (named after an island medicine man who gave us a wonderful eco-tour of Antigua).
Oh, and I talk to them, too. (I know, I must be sounding loonier by the minute). When I come home from work I head straight over to the tank to see how everyone is doing. My fiancé Jeff will be in the other room and will hear me cooing, “Hi Nemo, did you have a good day today? Aren’t you a cute fish?” Jeff just shakes his head and looks at me like I’m a lost cause.
Sometimes, I wonder if I would become less attached to the fish (and less devastated when they died) if I didn’t give them names. But to me, the fish are my pets and pets need to have names. Who knows, naming them and growing ultra-attached to them might even make me want to take better care of them on some level.
I know I can’t be the only crazy fish lady (or guy) out there. If you’ve named a fish or two, speak up to let me know I’m not alone (and not crazy!).
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