The Life (and Near Death) of Bo and Tina

My friend Cara, who sits next to me at work, has two goldfish who live on her desk -- Bo and Tina. Until recently she had three goldfish, but sadly, Johnny B. Good passed away earlier this week. We think his early demise was due to the dismal conditions of his bowl when no one was cleaning it over the holidays. There was a short service in the ladies' bathroom. But I digress. This story is really about Bo.

This morning, during our daily meeting, we noticed a funny sound coming from Bo and Tina's tank. Because we all love our animal companions, we put the meeting on hold to investigate. As we approached the tank, we realized that the weird sound was in fact Bo throwing himself against the glass. Upon closer inspection, we discovered that he had a rock (a piece of gravel from the bottom of the tank) stuck in his little fishy mouth and was thrashing about, trying to dislodge it! We're not sure exactly why he tried to eat a rock (feed those fish often, Cara?), but it didn't really matter -- Bo was clearly suffering.

As panic set in, we all gathered around the tank, shouting out ideas. "Help him!" someone shouted. "Press on his gills!" None of us could stand the thought of losing yet another fish this week. Instinctually, Cara reached for a drumstick (the drumming kind, not the eating kind) on her desk and proceeded to poke and prod Bo with it, squeezing him between the stick and the side of the tank in what appeared to be an attempt at an aquatic Heimlich maneuver. The compression didn't seem to help Bo at all, rather it only made him thrash more vigorously. I can just imagine him thinking, "Great! Not only am I choking on a rock, now they are attacking me with a musical instrument!"

Abandoning the underwater Heimlich idea, Cara ran to the lunchroom and returned with a teacup, which she used to scoop Bo from the tank. She placed two fingers on either side of his torso, and again attempted to pop the rock out by pressing on Bo's belly. Not only was this second attempt unsuccessful, but Cara was also entirely grossed out by the feeling of fish scales on her fingertips. Cara stepped back from Bo, head hanging in defeat, while the rest of us stood trembling around her desk, anticipating yet another fish funeral. And at that moment, Dave stopped by the office to see what all the commotion was about.

"It's Bo!" we cried. "He tried to eat a rock and it's stuck in his mouth! He's dying, and we can't get it out!" Perfectly composed, Dave surveyed the scene. Calmly, he picked up the pair of tweezers sitting on Cara's desk, gently removed the rock from Bo's gaping mouth, and returned Bo to his tank where he enjoyed a happy reunion with Tina. "Hooray for Dave!" we shouted. "You're a hero! You saved Bo's life!" Dave merely shrugged and walked out the door. All in a day's work, I suppose.

In other news, today is James' 26th birthday! Everyone please wish him another happy year and tease him for being such a geezer.