Eulogy.
Friends, we gather this morning to mourn the passing of a dear family member.
Ernest was a good fish, an honorable fish. He was loyal, honest, and hardworking. And earnest. He was certainly that.
Ernest loved to laugh and lived for nothing more than a well-crafted riddle. He prized the occasional frolic in his bowl. He was a contributor to this blog. He faced adversity in harsh bowl conditions but rarely let it affect his mood. He shouldered his burdens and gamely swam through life as though providing entertainment to an 8-year-old was nothing short of a divine mission. Ernest was a well-traveled, risk-taking fish. He visited Grandma Smith on several occasions, bouncing along in the back seat of a car in the unsteady hands of a distractible girl.
Our sea-faring friend suffered mightily in his quest to provide happiness. Dropped to the floor from breathtaking heights, he survived unscathed. He dodged a toddler, a dog, and a well-meaning 8-year-old girl who did her best to ensure his happiness. He was not a tidy fish, and it seemed his bowl would become unsightly within hours of a full cleaning, but we will overlook that now rather than speak ill of the dead.
As he neared the end of his earthly journey, Laurel wrung her hands and desperately searched the internet for cures but no viable options were found. Ernest's fate had been determined. He was found unresponsive in his bowl this morning, a victim of the dropsy.
After debating Ernest's wishes for his remains (Vinnie offered his disposal services which Laurel soundly rejected), we agreed to flushed him. We spoke a few words in a not-so-solemn ceremony, then sent him to his watery Utopia by way of water treatment plants. It is what our aquatic friend would have wanted. In a few hours he will have achieved his dream of being a Mississippi mariner.
Requiescat in pace, Ernest.
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