Current mood:	calm
Current music:	'Big Fish, Little Fish'
Entry tags:	fully-wikified

a little bit of inspiration
How one person can make a big difference, even to fish...

A true story.



Several years ago, I was going on my weekly trip with my mother and my son, and since it was a weekly trip, I thought nothing of it. Nothing particularly special happened on these trips; why should today be any different? The boy was quite young, and as is often the case with young children, he was extremely amused by watching the fish swim in little circles in their tanks, back in the pet department. It was a treat for him, since he was constrained in the basket, and we would often stand there for quite a long time and let him watch them.

This particular time, I happened to notice a shelf laden with Betas. Each Beta was kept in its own little cup, separate from others, which is not only common but practical - if you put more than one male Beta together, they will fight to death. However, these Betas weren't happy healthy fish; they were losing colour and not swimming at all. I left my boy in the capable hands of my mother and wandered over for a closer look.

Upon inspection, I discovered that each Beta, kept separate from the others in its own little cup, had also its own little lid. Each little lid had no air holes. They were sealed inside, not getting enough clean oxygen, and were, thereby, slowly dying.

I made noise, and my mother came over to see what was up. I started cracking the lids of the cups to renew the oxygen supply while she entertained the wee one. After a few moments, a nice Wal-Mart employee came over to investigate my mysterious actions.

"May I help you, Ma'am?"

"Why, yes. These Beta aren't getting enough oxygen, and are dying. Help me crack the lids."

He proffered me an expression of extreme puzzlement. "We aren't allowed to do that, ma'am. The water might spill."

"Ah. Well, then, do you have a hole-punch?"

Another expression of puzzlement, or perhaps the first one didn't go away. "What for?"

"To punch holes in the lids, for air to get in." Meanwhile, I was still cracking lids, though he had tried twice to interfere.

"They're fish. They live in the water. What do they need air for?" He sneakily tried to maneuver me away from the cups, but I was having none of it.

"They need fresh air circulating through the water, and in sealed cups, they can't get it. Look at them - they're dying. It's horrible. We need to make sure they get enough air."

He'd had enough of me and my weird theories. "I'll just go get the manager."

"You do that."

Meanwhile, I continue lifting lids. I'm not making them unsafe or even particularly open, just cracking them a bit so the fish can breathe. After a moment (rather speedy, for a Wal-Mart incident), the manager approaches.

"May I help you, ma'am? (Employee) said there was a problem?"

I explain the situation to her, her face remaining totally blank. She, as the worker, cares nothing for the health and well-being of these stupid creatures. They're fish. Who cares? She repeats that it's store policy for the Betas to be kept in this manner, it's perfectly fine, and she'd appreciate me leaving them alone, thank you very much.

I stop for a moment and look at her. She seems reasonable enough, given that my two attempts to explain how important air is to all living creatures and that fish are important living creatures as well seem to have fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps I'm just not trying the right track.

"Ms. Manager, do you realize that these fish are dying, and with each fish that dies, you lose nearly $4? Not to mention all the bowls and rocks and food that would go with each one... that's got to add up, too... and every time one of these Betas dies, you get zero money."

A light went on behind her eyes, and not only did she allow me to finish cracking lids, but she helped me, till all the fish could breathe.

I thought nothing more of it, really. The fish could breathe, they would live, I was pleased.

A little over seven months later, now living in Virginia (having moved from Texas), I went on yet another weekly Wal-Mart trip with my mother and my still-young son. We again went into the pet department to watch the fish and amuse him. Upon looking around, I spied a shelf of Betas, all in their little cups, all fairly active and brightly coloured. I wandered over and discovered that each little cup had a little lid, and each little lid had... a little hole punched in it.

A nearby handy-dandy worker asked if I needed any help, and I shook my head. I mentioned the holes in the lids, though, and said it was a great policy.

He smiled and said, "Oh, about six months ago, we got a nationwide memo that the cup-lids were going to be changing in the stores... seems the fish were dying due to lack of air, and someone noticed the loss in sales."