I agree with Lisa, don’t you?

Unfortunately two years of begging and pleading have yielded no results for me either (aside from me smuggling my cat in to pose with me for my employee photo). “People are allergic” and “We have expensive pipes lying around” are some of the lame answers I have received in opposition. Although I haven’t completely given up on a corporate feline, Susan and I recently came up the interim solution of fish.

About a month ago we snuck out of the office on our secret mission to acquire fish & milkshakes. Susan already purchased the tank and had worked on getting the water just right in the days preceding the mission. It was now time for some serious fish shopping. We settled on two Tiger Barbs and some live underwater plants before heading to Arby’s for some afternoon milkshakes.

Once the fish were settled in the tank it was time to name them. Bonnie & Clyde? No. Starsky & Hutch? No. Thelma & Louise! YES! (Ok, ok...we are women and we do like the occasional chick flick; cut us some slack.) For our gentleman readership who have not seen the movie, Thelma (played by the beautiful Geena Davis) and Louise (played by the equally lovely Susan Sarandon) are two completely different characters. Thelma was somewhat of a sheltered, emotional disaster, whereas Louise was a tough, no nonsense, take the bull by the horns kind of gal. So it became clear who ruled this tank with an iron fin. Louise swam around with a strong vigor, occasionally nipping at Thelma and Thelma would come out to eat and then retreat behind the filter with her nose pointed downward.

Several weeks went by like this until Tuesday when Thelma started looking a little peaked; swimming crooked and occasionally rolling over. Susan began emergency treatment immediately by removing Thelma from the tank into a separate container placed directly next to her monitor where she could keep an eye on her throughout the day, checking her movements and periodically aerating the bowl.

Alas, it was all in vain. When I came in this morning Thelma was lying sideways and motionless at the bottom of the tank. I broke the news to Susan when she arrived and then went to the kitchen to get a plastic serving spoon to remove the body from the tank. (It’s ok; Adam occasionally uses the same spoon for tilapia.) We had a small service in the ladies room this morning and sent Thelma off to her final resting place: The Horry County Sewer System.

Lisa, of course, will probably be relieved that she won't have to sign it up for the company health plan.