With apologies to
Douglas Adams, the last title in the
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy came to mind when we found Orenji floating in the pond. I imagine poor bereft Moby swimming around alone looking for his companion.
Actually, Moby seems quite okay, though every time he makes a circuit of the pond I can't help but anthropomorphize his feelings (too many readings of Charlotte's Web as a child). Do fish have thoughts?
Coincidentally, the day he found Orenji deceased, Wayne went to our local
Wild Birds Unlimited store to pick up bird seed. Amy said they needed to thin out the goldfish in the store pond. They are really pretty goldfish with really long fins and tails. She said to come and take some of them for our pond. I don't think Moby minds the goldfish, but I wonder what they think of this
white whale.
Moby gets to know his new pond-mates.
I made a little slide show of our pond which started out on a small patch of the back yard where the grass would not grow. We're thinking about a bigger one soon. If Moby keeps growing, we'll need one.
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