When I was a young boy, I used to love animals. Dogs, cats, watermelons, bricks, everything. I would take my animals out on walks, and do everything in my ability to make them happy.

But I was never allowed to have an animal of my own. For some reason, my parents didn't 'trust' me enough. Sometimes, when I bothered them, they would give me such rude replies such as "You're giving me a haddock." and "That's a roeful idea."

But one day, I after asking my parents a marillion times, they finally agreed to get me a fish. Not to let me get one straight away, though. Bassicaly, I would have to borrow one from a friend first, and if I could keep it, they would fin-ally get me a fish.

I kept asking around, but all of my friends were too shellfish to let me borrow their fish! I was so desperate to the point where I was knocking on people's doors and begging for fish. Finally, one of my neighbor's decided not only to borrow me their fish, they would GIVE me their fish! I couldn't say no! That's a once in a lifetime oppur-tuna-ty!

I was sardinely not going to ruin this. I wanted my fish to be the happiest fish in the world. Once I got home, I grabbed my shovel and dug a whole in the backyard. Then I put water in the hole and placed my fish in it. I saw him swimming around happily, and was the happiest boy in the world.

I left the fish for a little. When I came back, the only thing I could sea was that all the water in my hole was missing and my fish was laying there, struggling to breath! I almost burst in tears. I ran towards my fish and tried to give him CPR. I squeezed his chest, and gave him mouth-to-mouth, but nothing was working! I added more water to the fish's hole, and he finally started to swim again.

Happy once again, I checked around for what could've been the cause of the fish dying. A fish is a mammal, right? They have lungs. So why couldn't they breathe when they weren't in the water? I stared at my fish for a little, before noting two little lines on the side of the fish. That must've been the problem! The fish got a cut!

I ran back inside my house and got my play-dough. I grabbed my fish out of the hole and carefully started putting the play-dough inside the small lines. The poor fish! He must've been struggling the whole time!

So I left the fish again. I went inside for lunch, and came back outside just to find another half-dead fish. I panicked. I thought that after the play dough incident, this would stop happening. I ran around the fish, thinking, desperately, about how I could save it. I soon came to the realization that all hope was lost. There's nothing I could do to save my fish.

The least I could do is help it die quicker, though, right? So I ran inside and grabbed my nerf gun. Quick and painless. I didn't want my fish to have to go through any more pain. Each bullet was like a knife stabbing into my heart. After three shots, my fish was gone. And there was nothing I cod do to bring him back.