A Fish Called Archimedes

Any time my dog hears the word “walk” he gets excited, followed by immediate frustration and intense depression because no one in the house is motivated enough to make his dream come true.
We started making new words for That Thing You Do To Get From A To B so that he never misunderstood our intentions but He soon caught on to them to.
“I am just going to saunter down to buy some milk.”
“Did you just toddle past my bedroom?”
“I am not going to have an argument with you. I am going to strut away with dignity!”
We then started spelling W.A.L.K but, it turns out, the poodle is lingual.

Sometimes (but not often) I want to show my dog that I care beyond cuddling him to the point of suffocation or pointing and saying, “Look at how damn cute you are!”
“Why don’t you feed him?” AM suggests at any given opportunity. It turns out, Puppy Me is much more attentive than the human[ized] equivalent.
“Come on Toby, let’s go for an amble.” I don’t say “walk”, in case I change my mind in an instant and push him onto Prozac.

The time (yes, singular) that the motivation exceeded beyond walking to the front door, Toby trotted for four hundred meters before stubbornly stopping.
“Come on!” I encouraged. He gave me a look that will be vocalized as, “Fuck no, you insane girl,” once he eventually takes the trick one step further and actually develops the ability to speak.
“This is why we never take you for a hike!”
I picked him up and carried him for the next three kilometers while he smugly snuggled into my shoulder and high-fived all of the dogs at sea level.
I would have been mad if I wasn’t so impressed by his manipulation as to want to start emulating his pick up technique myself.

One of my favorite boy friends has a pet fish.
“I am going away, can you look after Archimedes for three weeks?”
I waited for the punch line but there wasn’t one. He was serious.
“I call kids “its”, remember?” I warned. I have burnt soup. I should not supervise anything, let alone life.
“‘Its’ a fish. You will be fine.”
Boy friend arrived in my bedroom with a fish tank, food and cleaning products.
“He gets grumpy if you don’t feed him,” he explained. “And he gets grumpy if you feed him too much.”
“So basically the fish is just an asshole?”
I could sense paternal fear as boy friend backed out of my room, waving to Archimedes The Bipolar Fish for possibly the last time.

“What does one do with a fish for three weeks?” I asked my friends who have kids of their own. They seem to know how to occupy something grumpy, small and stupid.
“Might I suggest nothing?”
(Aside: Is it just me or do people become boring when they become parents?)
“Let’s take him on adventures!” My younger friend who was allowed to make suggestions exlaimed, thus confirming why I enjoy the company of people who weren’t alive in the 80s.

I was driving home from the gym when I stopped at a crossing to let a couple W.A.L.K. On their respective shoulders were a pet parrot and a pet cockatoo. They were taking their birds for a stride. I picked myself up off the accelerator I had fallen onto laughing and messaged my friend.
“I have the Best idea!”

Ideas usually start out rather innocently. World War One could have been quite subdued on paper. But then stupid people with stupid ideas get involved and all of a sudden a leash is wrapped around a fish tank on a boardwalk in broad daylight.

There are many fun things one can do with a fish other than eat it.
“Who wants sushi for lunch?”
“Archimedes does!”
“Who wants to go to the beach?”
“I will get the sunscreen for Archimedes!”
“Who wants to go for a W.A.L.K?”
Archimedes didn’t have a clue what was happening, but Toby almost had a fit.

Taking responsibility for something is much more fun than it sounds in theory. Which could have been the poorly executed idea behind World War One. Looking after something, whether it be yourself, another person or a fish, can be motivating to the point of euphoria. It should be done more often.
“Where should we take him next?” I wondered during an animal-free gym session.
“Archimedes First Sex Shop?”
“A fish in a sex shop…[?]”
The fish may not be grumpy. He could just be frustrated.