I bought new plants for my fish aquarium. I also picked up gravel, rocks and a couple decorations.

I hope my fish like it.

When I get fish.

And when I get an aquarium.

I added a box of fish food to my aquatic hope chest. Because I hope to hear the pitter-patter of little feet… er, fins… splashing about my apartment someday.

It’s about time that I had some life in the place. I sure don’t have one.

Orandas — those colorful, fancy fantail goldfish — are my favorite pets for a variety of reasons, the first being that an elephant wouldn’t fit. Not in my apartment, and certainly not in an aquarium. And if an elephant tromping around the place wouldn’t get on my downstairs neighbor’s nerves, the trumpeting would.

So, the elephant is out. The same goes for the rhinoceroscerosceros. Also, I can never remember how many “ceroses” it takes to spell rhinoceros.

A sloth might be cool, but I don’t need the competition.

An anteater would have come in handy at my old house in the country.

I grew up on a farm and showed Jerseys at the county fair. But even if I could get a cow to walk up the steps to my upstairs apartment, I’d never convince her to clamber back down should I need to run her to the vet.

Oh, yeah, I’d have a hard time fitting a cow inside my little Ford. Same with the elephant and rhino.

After hours of contemplation, I figured out that I needed something smaller.

A gorilla would prove useful. A gorilla could have calculated my IRS taxes better than I did and probably would be a better auto mechanic as well, though pretty much anyone or anything is better at lubricating manifolds and inflating pistons than I am.

I ruled out a gorilla on account of it probably would eat all of my Reese’s Puffs breakfast cereal. Also, visitors might get confused on which one of us evolved from which. Plus, he’d steal all my shampoo and conditioner, telling me that with my thinning hair, I don’t need such products.

“Get a golden retriever,” my buddy Mike said. “A golden retriever will snuggle up in bed with you and keep you warm.”

A dog might steal my covers.

“How about a cat?”

No, cats tend to want to sleep on my face. Cats are crafty little critters who would love to smother their owners and take over the house.

I realize that a cat wouldn’t actually bump me off on account of the rent. Cats prefer not to hold down a job. A cat would need to keep me around to pay the rent. Also, to operate the can opener.

I have had both cats and dogs in my life. Cats are always claiming my favorite chair as their own, forcing me to sit on the floor. Dogs stare at me the whole time I am eating. It makes me nervous, and I tend to spill my food — which, come to think of it, might be the point.

Also, dogs lick my fingers every time I do that thing in which I let my hands dangle from the ends of my arms.

I am a cantankerous old man who enjoys reclining in his own chair without having his fingers licked, and who likes to eat supper without someone begging for a bite with literal puppy dog eyes.

That’s how I landed on goldfish as my perfect pet. Rarely would a goldfish crawl into my bed to try to steal the covers or to smother me. Goldfish may stare at me when I eat, but they can’t follow me into the next room. I suspect it wouldn’t be often that goldfish swipe my easy chair. They don’t trumpet like elephants, nor do they tend to leave cow patties all over the floor right where I was trying to walk.

Now if I could just figure out how to train goldfish to chase off burglars or salesmen. The gorilla was great at that.

Bark at Burt at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.