Spider Magazine for Kids|July/August 2020
I’d begged my parents for a dog or a cat. Even an iguana would have been better than a fish. But they showed up one day with a bright gold fish swimming around in a plastic bag. They beamed at me and expected me to be ecstatic. For a fish. A silly little fish.
In protest, I named him Dog.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against fish. They’re perfectly fine animals. But I wanted a pet that would do tricks and greet me when I entered a room. A pet that would show affection, like a tail wag or a meow. Instead, I got a dead-eyed fish.
Or so I thought.
“I’m never going to get a dog,” I said to my best friend, Jane, on the phone. I stared at my fish lazily munching on his flakes. Suddenly, Dog stopped eating and swam over from the other side of his tank. He looked at me, expectantly.
“What do you want?” I muttered. Dog turned and swam back to his dinner.
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