Scout passed away during the night. I knew his time was getting close-- after I changed his water last night, he started to swim sideways and gasped for air. He held out a good three weeks when most places said he merely had a 72 hour window. He fought pretty hard. When I knew it was close, I put his orange ball back in his bowl and his favorite rock, too, so he'd have something to lean against. When I woke up this morning, he was still, still leaning against his rock. I carefully scooped him out and put him in an empty plastic bottle. I don't have the heart to just flush him-- I'm going to see if I can't dig a small hole for him later tonight.

I never got a picture that really captured how beautiful Scout really was. When I brought him home from the pet store, he was a very sick boy, almost completely brown. As he recovered, his fins went to brilliant teal and scarlet-striped-- they reflected light. I wish there were a way to preserve one of those gorgeous fins. You might think it's silly when I say that each of my fish have their own personalities. Sushi's kinda grumpy, Sasha's the most argumentative, Sashimi is elegant, and Ivan mostly keeps to himself. Scout was endlessly inquisitive. He was always poking around, trying to squeeze himself into the tightest spots, wanting to see every cranny of his bowl. Because of this, and his habit of laying in his own poo, he was constantly marinating in a fungal remover of some kind, but he always seemed to bounce back. He was also my only imbellis, the betta species that's much less aggressive than the others. He had a kind of childlike curiosity about everything, and he never paid any attention to the others, even when they flared nonstop at him. I'll miss that, and when it's time, I'll probably get another imbellis and name him Junior, after Scout.

Scout, don't tell the others, but you were my favorite. I'll miss you.