My favorite pet was never truly owned by me but it was mine just the same. You see, when I was ten years old, we moved to the country and our ten acres were set against a small river. I loved to go to the river almost everyday and watch the toads, frogs, and turtles. One day as I was sitting on the bank near a fallen log that extended into the river, I noticed a very colorful fish not much bigger than my hand. It had come from under the log, swam over near me, and I swear it looked me in the eye. The moment that I moved it darted quickly under the log. I told my dad about it that night and he just laughed saying I’d probably never see it again. So I went out by the log the next day and waited patiently. I couldn’t believe my eyes! There was my fish right in front of me. As soon as I moved, it was gone. I continued to watch the fish everyday. It became less skittish and would stare at me for long periods of time before swimming away. I mentioned the strange behavior of the fish to my dad and once again he laughed me off as a kid with a wild imagination. Then one day, he was home doing some yardwork and I was sitting by the river eye to eye with my pet fish. I decided I would prove to him that I had a pet fish. I leaned forward and grabbed the fish, ran as fast as I could to my dad, and asked him what kind of fish it was. He was speechless as I raced back to the river and carefully placed my fish back into the water near the log. My dad was amazed and asked me a lot of questions about it that evening. My fish and I continued our daily meetings the rest of that summer and I think my dad gained a little more respect for my childish fish tales (as he had originally declared my stories of my pet). Winter came and went and I spent many summer days the next year looking for my friend. I never saw it again but I’ve never forgotten the bond we had. That is the true story of my favorite pet that wasn’t really mine yet was.

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