Like I normally do I went over to my betta to say hello and found him dead. He's lived for nearly 3 years and had one rough experience. (My son knocked his vase onto the floor shattering it.) He lived, but wasn't the same since.
I wanted to bury him but my husband convinced me to flush him. I was fine until about 5 minutes after that, then I started crying. Steve tells me, "Honey, it's just a stupid fish. This time I'll buy you a red one."
I don't think he was just a stupid fish. He was my "Big Blue" and I loved him and I'll miss him. Just because he was a fish doesn't make him any less of a loved pet.
I'll miss you Big Blue! R.I.P.!