He's a pretty Ryukin. I got him for 50 bucks from a nearby fish store. He was part of a pair. Of course I named his partner Hyde. Hyde's big, he's the king of the aquarium today, the biggest fish in the tank. Jekyll just never grew to be as big as Hyde.
Jekyll had a tiny tiny tail, so disproportionate from his fishy body. I always joked that he made a silly put-put-putting sound when he swam. He had permanent lipstick on, I think he's a tranny that way. And I love him.
I found Jekyll stuck to the air filter of his home. He was sucked in and couldn't get himself free from the filter's hold. Glad I'm as old as I am now, because if I saw that back when I was 10, I'd be traumatized. Poor baby was still alive but barely. Yes, I cried. I cried over a fish. A fish I've had for more than two years.
I transferred Jekyll to the "retirement" fish bowl. It's where I transfer all my sickly fish so they can die in peace, away from the botherings of the other fish in the tank. Jekyll stayed in there, belly up, for the evening. He must've passed away during the night, because when I woke up to check on him at 7 in the morning, the retirement bowl was cleaned out and he was gone.
Days like these make me wonder why I get pets anyway. Only end up crying at the end of it all.