I can hear him building his bubble nest as I write this. Yes, he makes some tiny sounds when he builds and when he eats, and yeah I can hear him alright. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would be getting a betta fish this summer, but alas, here I am.
I gave him a cozy, heavily planted five-gallon aquarium for him to live in. Water? Cycled. Temperature? Tropical. Hiding spots? Plenty. Worries? None. He lives rent free in my room, hasn’t worked a day in his life, he’ll never even know what an email is. Just a month in and he already greets me when I walk into my room, quickly dashing to the edge of the tank all wiggly and jolly.
He’s grown surprisingly comfortable around my presence. Instead of hiding from my hand while I’m giving his tank maintenance with my high tech tool: a pair of chopsticks. He just swims near them and gets in the way. He’s such a goof. I could literally grab him with the chopsticks and he wouldn’t care.
To have such a small form of life trust you like that… What a privilege it is.
