Living with an asocial goldfish

Bonjour, my name Didier, I am living in France…, well until I get eaten. Question is: who will eat me first? Human, heron, cat, dog or …. The asocial goldfish?

As a matter of fact I emigrated to Paris, because country life just didn’t appeal to me. So I hitchhiked to the outskirts of Paris in a bucket full of grapes. Nobody saw me and as luck had it, I was placed in a nice cool shed with a hole in the door from where I could continue to find my first Parisian pond. Lucky me! I didn’t have to look that far, some things are just around the corner. Out of the hole in the door a few leaps and there it was. Nicely located in a small garden with just the right amount of bush, trees, mud, stones and flys. What more can a frog wish for!

But just when deciding to take the leap to start off my new life I saw something lingering beneath a stone. There it was orange and fishy, yawning out of the water.  Normally I don’t respect fish that much, but to start off on the right foot, I introduced myself and asked whether I could move in.

Luc, that’s how he introduced himself to me, got matters straight right there an then: he called himself asocial goldfish and wants to be known as such, he ate all his pond mates so far and he did survive several heron attacks by pushing his mates closer to the surface than he was. I guess he really earned that name.

“If you don’t play by the rules, you know what will happen to you! The rules are made by me and I won’t bother to explain them to you! Welcome if you stay otherwise have a good trip!”

Since the place seemed perfect I just took the chance and slided in the pond at the end farthest away from him, I mean I’m a frog and LIVING in  France, I mean STILL living in France.

My chances not to end up being eaten by someone are pretty slim so I will stay here. By the way: I recently found out that Luc doesn’t have teeth at all… But don’t tell him…


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