The True Fighting Spirit of the Betta Spendens and How do We Ever Survive? #3

Lazzy flaring at the world in his earlier days.
On the morning of October 12 I awoke to find Lazzy's body lying on the bottom of the tank. I had cried for him the night before and told him that it would be ok if he needed to move on. I thanked him for all that he had given me, apologized for his hard life, and let him know that I did not want him to suffer any longer if he did not want to do so.

I thought I would take it better but cried on and off for the rest of the day. It's been twelve days since his passing yet just a couple of nights ago I found myself crying again while thinking about him. He died before I could figure out why he fought so hard.

Obviously, Lazzy meant more to me than just a fish. I'm sure a professional would claim that I was projecting or having some type of transference reaction. Perhaps he represented a lost part of myself or maybe I was struggling with an explanation for my own reasons to continue on in harsh circumstances.

It is my suscpicion that the instinct to survive is so strong for most living creatures that it is just too hard to give up. No matter what hardships the body endures it keeps going for as long as possible. The force is so strong that it is almost cruel. Humans, in particular, can take decades of the worst experiences possible and yet live for decades more.

Regardless of any of this, Lazarus has died again but is probably not going to rise anytime soon.