I think I've found Nemo, he's on my desk at work...

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I've worked in an office for almost twenty years, and if there's one thing I've learned about cubicle dwelling, it's that you need to personalise your space.

Hang up pictures, scatter around little toys and novelty items, that sort of thing.  Hell, you can even decorate your computer monitor (mine is surrounded by polished stones, all blue tacked in place) or hang wrapping paper to disguise the fuzzy cubicle walls (I chose a bookshelf motif ... well I do work in a library).  It's all about making the place your own, considering how long you have to sit there every day.

But if there was one thing on my desk that always made it feel like mine, it was Snitchy S Snitchington III.

Snitchy was a siamese fighting fish who lived in a small bowl on top of my filing cabinet.  For well over two years he was my office companion ... at least he was until he went into a gradual decline that ended in a six week death scene where he lay melodramatically at the bottom of his bowl and waved a fin feebly above his head.

What can I say, I like my fish to have a sense of the dramatic.

Even Snitchy couldn't last forever though, and eventually he blurbled his last, and was given a 21 flush salute in the upstairs ladies bathroom, as was his due.  He was a good fish, and he was definitely missed.

But after poor Snitchy's demise it was like I was cursed.  Sushi McFishsauce, Sir Bubbles Glubbington, and Monsieur Poisson all followed in quick succession, but for some reason it never seemed to go very well.  Sushi was gone within a couple of weeks, Bubbles within a couple of days, and I don't think Monsieur Poisson even made it to his first lunch break.

I still have no idea why.  I wasn't treating them any differently to Snitchy, but none of them survived for very long in what was quickly becoming known as "the fishbowl of death" by my oh so caring workmates.  Obviously I wasn't meant to have another fish after Snitchy, so I gave up.  There would be no more fish at Kellie's desk.

At least, that was until this week.

At first when I brought Catherine & Heathcliff in my workmates were worried.  I'd already killed three fish (four if you count Snitchy), did I really want two more on my conscience?  But they quickly got on board when I explained that I don't have to feed them, clean out their bowls, or flush them when they inevitably shuffle of the fishy coil, because they're not even alive.

Robot fish!  Can you believe the things they can do these days?  They're actually children's toys, but I got some for my nephew's birthday and I couldn't resist.

So now I have a couple of robotic clown fish happily bobbing around on my desk, and the only thing I need to do is change their batteries every now and then.

At last, a pet care chore that even I can't screw up!