My poor Floydie.

Floyd died today.

He’d been sick for quite awhile, hanging out at the top of his tank, and developing what looked pretty similar to a beer-gut. The beer-gut was a swim bladder infection, and although the poor little bugger fought for as long as he could, he just couldn’t handle it anymore.

For those who didn’t know Floyd, I did a guest post on Katie’s blog not too long ago - a mini biography of sorts.

For a fish, he was a defiant little bastard, watching you walk across the room, demanding food, swimming away when you wanted to clean his tank - heck, he even bit me once!

His final act of defiance was attacking the tube Matt put into his tank to do a water change this morning.

My poor Floydie… we didn’t mistreat him, forget to feed him or tease him too much. He loved watching TV, and he loved his pellets. He did not, however, enjoy the mashed peas we tried to give him on occasion. Apparently, he prefered to stay constipated…

Matt just cleaned out the tank and asked for the OK to flush Floyd. As they said in Finding Nemo: “All drains lead to the ocean.”

Be free, little guy.