RIP Fiona Walzenbach

It all started on a sunny San Francisco summer day; last summer to be precise. HGITW (refer to post 1) comes over to my crib with a surprise. She had brought two newts. We had talked about raising some love-children (of the animal nature) and the choice was frogs but I had forgotten completely about our talk with the frogs (the first time that it has ever happened. I have an impeccable memory. Ask me about that one time...I bet I know exactly what you're talking about). We decided to raise them. The first order of business was naming the slimy rug rats so I decided on Murphy and HGITW decided on Fiona (She has a strange fascination with names that sound out of a fairytale, sorry all you Fiona's out there). 

So everything was going swell in newt-land except the little rebel Fi wouldn't eat. Murph ate like a champ because hes mah boy and he kept growing big and probably is Godzilla's midget cousin but Fi didn't eat. She never ate. The first time we saw her eat was a couple of days ago when HGITW fed her. She ate like crazy. Then BAM, she is belly up as cold as the rocks that surrounded her. We asked the newt coroner but they only concluded that she overate...and her little stomach wasn't up to it. It was a sad day, but we said our good byes and moved on. Correction: Max said his goodbyes and flushed her before I could even properly look at her through the waterfall of tears streaming out of my face because our love newt died, which implies our love will die. It was obviously a much more symbolic meaning for me than for him. Jerk. Murph is doing well, chillin on the rocks and being king of the castle. I wish I had a picture of Fi, but she was way camera shy, and generally hated the paparazzi, which is weird for a newt.