The True Fighting Spirit of the Betta Spendens and How do We Ever Survive? #1

Lazarus was named such because he was practically raised from the dead. I am not religious.

I admit that I over-identify with the plight of the betta. Presently, they are raised to be sold and shipped across the world in a tiny cup of foodless dirty water laced with blue medicine that will keep them drugged and alive until someone might take them home only to put them into another small container with the misunderstanding that "bettas are hardy and do not need much care." Even worse, they might be placed in the bottom of a plant vase or designer purse as a decoration with little need for food or clean water. I do not know why they bother.

Bettas have never had a good deal. They were discovered by the Siam over a century ago. The Siam were so amazed at how viciously these fish would defend their territory against one another that they took advantage of them by collecting the fish and pitting them against each other in cock-fight-like fashion. To make it worse, Bettas have been selectively breeded to make their tails so long that it can be hard to tow such a tail. In the wild, bettas have short fins and are usually greenish- brown. As if they were not amazing enough in and of themselves.

I had returned to my work cube one day and someone had left a plastic container full of cloudy water. I just stood and stared -- wondering what it was -- as a small crowd gathered around me. It was then that we all squealed when we saw something dark brush against the side of the container. Something was living and moving in there and I was not pleased as my thoughts jumped to all the prank-paybacks I was due and surely someone had paid me back with something nasty and alive. It was then that a fellow programmer wandered down the aisle -- pleased that I had found his gift -- a male Betta Splendens, also known as the Siamese Fighting Fish. He knew I was a betta-freak. He found had this guy in his small son's bedroom, sadly neglected. Would I take care of him?

I immediately went into action by locating him (which was not easy) in the cloudiness, removing him, and beginning the slow marination process to acclimate him to cleaner water. What I found was a small fish with clamped fins that appeared to have been dipped in black ink (fin rot.) I knew he would not survive and planned my heartbreak since I had other Bettas with much-less worse conditions who could not hold out. Weeks later, he was flipping around the tank, lapping back and forth, and making flares at anyone who would look at him. And he was thus named: Lazarus -- the fish raised forth from the dead. I do not know why he bothered.

It is now two years later and I continue to be amazed as he has lived through water disasters, relocations, various wounds, and power outages. LOOK NOW at Laz in the picture above after a just a few months of care.

Bettas respond to their owners voice and appearance. They dance for food. They attack their reflections. They get so happy (or bored) that they build little bubble nests on the top of their tanks. They enjoy taking flying leaps out of their tanks. They bite and defend their territory. They have musical preferences. All of this despite being trapped in a human's tank. Why do they bother?

I still haven't figured out for the life of me how or why Laz continues each day to be so ready to take on the world. He will attack and eat anyone at any time. I have wanted so much to be like him but I don't know how. I am beaten up, exhausted, and burned-out but I want to be able to swim through life ready to fight at any time yet hang out on a leaf and happily blow bubbles every chance I get.

Laz is my hero but is getting old. Today when I went to his tank an ulcer had taken over the left side of his face and my heart sank. I'm sure I have not yet learned what I need from this little soul but my time is running out and I do not know what to do.

...to be continued