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After Monkey #1’s ninth birthday, he had birthday money burning a hole in his pocket! After weighing his options – Legos, Star Wars action figures, gum – he settled on a male betta fish when we were at Walmart.

While pondering which betta, he also considered food and a bowl. The round bowl that came by itself, or the “premium” bowl with flat sides, a small plant, rocks and a net? He thought long and hard about that bowl. The premium bowl was worth it.

Really, it is a nice bowl. The flat sides allow you to see the fish better. Of course, that means the fish can see us better, too. I wonder how we look to them.

Everything was set up. Now for a name.

It was football season, so maybe Husker. Or Harry P., his favorite storybook character. In the end, he chose Rainbow. He said there was a rainbow on the bottom of its back fin. Hence, Rainbow.

Monkey #1’s bedroom was his first home, but eventually he relocated to the kitchen counter. Time passed, and Rainbow inhabited our kitchen quietly every day.

On a lovely April afternoon, I found Rainbow floating at the top of his bowl. I knew I would have to tell Monkey#1 that Rainbow was gone.

I pulled him away from a game of catch, not knowing what to expect. I told him to come inside. I left him by himself in the kitchen with his fish and went outside to tell everyone else.

When I came back, he was holding Rainbow in the palm of his hand. I told him we could flush him down the toilet and the tears came. He told me in no uncertain terms that I was not flushing his fish down the toilet.

Monkey #1 wanted to bury him, but what to bury him in?

Rainbow ended up in a gum box behind our air conditioner.

Monkey #1 retired to his room. When I knocked on his door I saw he was creating an obituary. He had drawn a picture of Rainbow and written some nice text, saying he wasn’t just depressed, but super depressed. All his prayers from now on would be for Rainbow.

I was touched. After that, he seemed much better. I guess writing the obituary was a cathartic experience for him.

We didn’t have anymore fish until later in the summer. Two goldfish came home and didn’t live as long as a fruit fly. It seemed to be starting all over again, only this time my hubby said he wasn’t burying any more fish. A flushing ceremony ensued.

We decided Monkey #1 didn’t need any more fish for a while.

We also hope we’re not haunted by the ghost of Rainbow since he’s buried in the backyard.

About the author: Denise Howie

Denise Howie is a wife, mother and preschool teacher. She spent her formative years in Minnesota and Iowa, graduating from Iowa State University. After working in the publishing industry for 6 years she became a stay-at-home mom who rarely stayed home! Denise moved to Hastings in 2006 with her husband and three children and dove head first into life in Nebraska.