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rapidly and her voice rose to [[strikethrough]] all sorts of [[/strikethrough]] various ranges as she blurted out,

"Beverly, Oscar ate Sam"!

"Who the devil is Sam"? I [[strikethrough]] asked [[/strikethrough]] rather shrilly.

"He WAS my Siamese fighter", she retorted.

I was stunned. [[strikethrough]] Oscar's [[/strikethrough]] Oscars can, and often do, fight other fish and may eat them as well, but not MY Oscar. I breathlessly shot back,

"Impossible-- When was the last time get was fed"?

"Two days ago", she barely whispered.

Good grief, you'd probably have eaten Sam, too--".
She was too near tears so I shut up. In the ladies' lounge I sat down with an anacin tablet and closed my eyes.

"Hear ye, hear ye, this court is now in session. Judge Jefferson presiding. All rise". The chubby clerk must be a fish-hater I was sure as he glanced at Oscar, who was imprisoned in a foul-looking guppy-jar. He looked cramped but normally green. The prosecution began by presenting several character witnesses for Nancy and then hammered away with the damaging evidence: 1) Oscar was capable of murder-- but did he? 2) I had full knowledge that oscars could be killers 3) Oscars, as a rule, are poor community fish.

Now came my turn. I spared nothing. I told of Oscar's sharing a home with other fish, one of whom was a Beta like Sam, and how, when a black Mollie died, Oscar literally ignore the corpse. Also, that Nan had not fed the fish in two days.

Then it was over.

The jury concluded that insufficient evidence was presented to convict Oscar of Sam's murder, so Oscar was again mine to have and to feed. Frustration was temporary for the Judge knew a lady [[strikethrough]] who knew another [[/strikethrough]] with a 50-gallon tank who loved Oscars and so, again, Oscar, farewell, I hope.