I don’t know who put the children’s wading pool in the back of my pickup truck last night and filled it up with water and several dozen goldfish. But I’m impressed. The effort. The creativity. The expense in money and time. The calculated taking of innocent animal lives. Admirable.
The one person I believe to have perpetrated this act against my personal property denies it fully. He’s got motive. He’s got the children who would love to help. He’s got the history. Recent history. But he’s also got strong alibies. I’m not sure I believe him. But I can’t prove anything. There’s no evidence but two empty plastic fish bags from Wal-Mart and my garden hose unreeled all over my front yard. The other person I believe is capeable of this elaborate prank has no motive. At least, none that I’m aware of.
I was laughing my head off this morning when I saw it. The girls were flipping out. Carrie-Anne was just shaking her head. Carley wants to keep all the fish.
I managed to save eight or nine. Four or five of them don’t look like they’re going to make it through the day.
I’m glad I checked the back of the truck before I took the girls to school this morning. C-A takes the truck to TWU in Denton nowadays. I would have hated for her to discover all this as she was running late to class. Or, worse, for her to take off and not realize the situation. Just imagine the little blue Ranger cruising down 114, dead fish flying out of the back, smashing into the windshields of other cars, causing a three-car-injury-colission. Carrie-Anne cited by local police and DPS and state game and wildlife officials for illegally transporting fish across county lines during a swine flu imposed quarantine. Not good.
Just know this, whoever did this to me: I will find you out and I will exact revenge. Just like Bill Cosby’s routine about the snowball and Junior Barnes (look it up, it’s a classic), I will wait until July if that’s what it takes. I will find you out and I will wait. And wait. I will make you my dearest and closest friend. I’ll laugh at all your jokes. I’ll bring you an orange soda while we play on my front porch. And then, at the moment you least expect it, I’ll get you.
Juuuuunior Baaaaarrrrrrnes. Where are you, Junior Barnes? Ohhhhhhh, Junior Baaarrrnnnes.