A Fish Named Harry

Meet the newest Wagner -- Harry the beta fish (sorry, he's just not that photogenic).

In his first 24-hours on Ribera Drive, Harry has already exhibited his unique fish personality. The first scare came on the initial car ride home from the pet store. "Pull over, Mom!" Grayson screamed. "I think Harry is car sick!" Upon closer examination, "Grayson, honey. That's not vomit. That's fish poop."

This afternoon, every pet-owning parent's nightmare/longing: "Mom? Why is Harry laying on the floor?" With fish heaven explanations swimming through my mind, and a shared grimace between Grammy and I, I hesitantly approached the bowl only to find Harry on the floor of his bowl, happily treading water. Phew. He lives another day.

On her last visit to Santa Barbara, Grammy arrived with a slingshot, and the visit prior to that began with a real sounding metal-scraping-metal saber.

At least a fish doesn't require batteries.

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Montecito Mama

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