So this afternoon Carly and I decided to go out and find Dumpling. We've been meaning to go looking for Dumpling for a week or two now, but it seemed that something else always got in the way. Today, however, we were prepared ... until we walked outside and it was nasty and cold and rainy. In a quick change of plans, we decided to drive rather than walk to the local pet store.
"Dumpling," I called. "Dumpling, are you here?" We thought that he'd be there, but it was hard to tell. At first it seemed like he wouldn't be. Pet food lined the walls, and there were more tiny dog sweaters than I've ever seen at once, but the aquariums were only lightly populated and with tropical fish at that.
Enter the helpful sales lady. "We're looking for a goldfish," Carly told her.
"Yes," I wanted to add, "His name is Dumpling. Have you seen him?" But I didn't. Because that would just be weird. Obviously.
And yes, the helpful sales lady was helpful, and guided us to the tank of goldfish, and yes, the helpful sales lady was good at selling things, because she proceeded to set us up with everything that two girls could possibly need to take care of one small goldfish. Named Dumpling.
We spent quite some time looking through all the various fish. There were black fish with bulging eyes and a gold shimmer to their scales, and bright orange fish, and white fish, and splotchy fish, and truly golden fish. Dumpling took some finding, but we found him: a small, plump orange and white goldfish with a fancy tail.
He's now happily living with his fancy plant that grows out of the fancy blue and red gravel in his fancy fishbowl, which sits on our plain Ikea bookshelf. Every home needs a pet, and we now have Dumpling.