Red tails in the sunset:

Towards the end of winter in 2002 I had a poker night here at the house. BJ, Tyler, Dan, Jonathon, and Anna came. Jonathon & Anna were getting ready to move to Florida after he graduated from law school. They had this fish tank in the back of their car because they had been planning to give it to a coworker of Anna’s from the hospital (Anna worked maternity at Barnes). When they brought the tank over to this coworker, with two large sharks still swimming in the tank, the women pretended not to be home and then, when it became obvious she was home, said through her sister that she didn’t want the tank. The little sharks died.

We took the empty tank on as Jonathon’s stake for poker night and I ended up winning it, which is what started my aquarist hobby. Ruthann and I were still together then and when we bought fish for the tank we decided that instead of naming them we would refer to them by the kinds of cars they drove.

This morning the Camaro driving red tailed shark ran out of gas. In death his black scales turned white and at first I thought the golden Gourami had passed. All the other fish seem fine and other than the discoloration there was no sign of disease. He was floating like a spawned salmon in a stream. At an estimated lifespan of three and a half years I’d say he had a good run. I did the burial at sea and I thought I might eulogize him.

He was the centerpiece of that first tank and he was very happy to have the room to zoom in the upgraded thirty-five gallon. As a good looking freshwater shark, with a line like a submarine and a penchant for sudden bursts of speed, he had a something more that made children point and tell their parents that he was their favorite. If he’d been a man instead of a fish he would have driven a superfine Camaro with the rear jacked up and eighty inch white walls to smoke you in the street race with their unexpected grip. That fish had both power and finesse. He was a stylish fucker and will be missed.