Where The Koi’s Are

While not exactly a tribute to Connie Francis’ song, I thought I’d update y’all on our fish.  As you may recall our dog Booker decided to mass murder our pond fish last week.  For reasons only our fish and their little guardian fish-angels (angel fish?) know, most of them survived Bookers teeth and an extended period of time on the ground in a sleet storm. To my knowledge only one goldfish passed on to the big pond in the sky as a result.

Since last week, or the day of “the incident,”  the weather has remained cold and wintery.  We’ve had somewhere in the neighborhood of fourteen inches of snow in seemingly endless spurts.  The fish are keeping a sluggish vigilance near the bottom of the pond, and I can’t blame them.  Booker has become gargoyle-like in his hovering.  He watches and watches and watches.  I’m guessing the fish are mega-creeped out.

It’s hard to tell if Booker is wondering if the fish are:

1.  Ghosts.  How could they survive his teeth? They couldn’t.
2.  Zombie fish waiting for their chance to eat his brains in revenge.
3.  A moving sushi bar.  Maybe next time he’ll try them with wasabi sauce.
4. Catfish with nine lives. Well, eight more to go!

I watch Booker watch the fish and remain grateful.  Resilience…the best part of my day.