Most of you Wittians probably have a pet out there you love dearly. be it your cat, your dog, your horse, your bunny, your hampster, your bird, or another. Naturally, you'd be devestated for he or she to die. I'm alergic to all of these. For me, it's my fish.

You may not think one could be as attatched to her fish as say, her dog. You can't pet them, they can't snuggle up in your lap, and you can't take them on a walk through the park. That may be true, but I've loved my fish more than any other. They have been my world, and my devotion to them, however uncommon, is deeply rooted.

Today I had a lot of fun. I laughed and I joked and I smiled, but it was short lived. I came home to find my beloved Sunrise dead.

Sunrise is - or rather was - a gold molly. She was expecting fry (she was pregnant) when she passed, she was expecting the fry of Storm, my silver lyretail molly. She died of ich, a common disease. The local aquarium told us not to worry. It seemingly was not a serious case, as my dear Sunrise was still eating and swimming and acting rather normally, yet she passed. She was a strong fish with a strong spirit, whose absense leaves my heart broken. Will the sun rise tomorrow without my poor beloved Sunrise to carry the dawn on her golden shoulders?

Rest in peace, my beloved.