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Archive for February 11th, 2013

Where in the world is Titan?
Monday, February 11th, 2013

I have to start this by saying I’m a “wierd” magnet—one of those people that Ripley’s could include in their Believe It Or Not fact books for the sheer number of wierd happenings that occur around them.

Let me tell you about the wierd thing that happened today.


My office is maybe 12’x12′ and cram-jam-packed with a corner desk, three bookcases and a tall file cabinet which sits to the right of my big desk. Atop the file cabinet is my 18″-tall James Brown doll that sings “I Feel Good,” a Russian pencil holder with some of my stranger, collectible pens, a clay figurine of a shark with a man’s hand reaching out from inside its belly, and my little betta fish Titan’s bowl.

Today, I left to run errands in town while the lady who helps me by cleaning and organizing my “stuff” worked. When I returned, she was already gone, so I went to make a cup of hot chocolate before beginning my day’s work. I reach for the fish food to feed little Titan and I don’t see him in the bowl.

WTF? 😯

So, I got to thinking. My little fish took a turn for the worse about ten days ago, and I Facebooked the fact he looked like his health was heading south. But in recent days, he’s been looking more active, more like his spunky self. I thought maybe I’d been fooling myself that he was doing better and someone in the family found him floating while I was gone. Maybe they took care of his remains, knowing how upset I’d be if I’d been the one to find him. I canvassed everyone. No one was in my room today. Except my friend, the organizer whiz.

I called her, and she told me that when she cleaned the top of the file cabinet she noted that Titan was missing and assumed he’d died since the last time she’d been here. So no one who had access to my room knows anything about his disappearance.

I began to worry that he channeled his inner dolphin and leapt out of his bowl. I inched close to the wall behind the cabinet to search for his little body, searching the coffee cups on the table beside the cabinet in case he’d flopped there, and then looked everywhere else I could think that he might have wound up.

No Titan. I’m flummoxed. But now, I’m so intrigued I’m not grieving much for my little companion.