He has passed.
I miss that pale, hyperactive-yet-louche little motherfucker. He was tough. He was my favourite.
We buried him in the garden - under a big stone, so that a cat wouldn't dig him up like the last one. But a badger dug him up last night instead and tore him out of the bag my daughter put him in.
Consumed by a badger: life's final fucking insult.
No one - not even a pale, hyperactive-yet-louche little fish - deserves such relentlessly-unforgiving negative karma. It seems so... unfair, but - you know what, bub? - Nature don't do 'fair'. The universe just... IS. It doesn't need us to subjectify it - or its contents.
I continue to dutifully feed the others each day.
I don't have a new favourite.
And I suspect I never will.