Mommy, Where's My Fishy?

When Belle was only about 2-3 months old, we got her a pet. Her first pet was a beta fish we called "Purple Fish". (It didn't seem right for us to really name her fish...) The theory was eventually she would call it something and that would be its name. Now, over 4 years later, I have to report that Belle's first pet "Purple Fish" has gone on to the great fish bowl in the sky... (Via the porcelain bowl next to the shower.) Belle asked me where her fish was, and upon examining the contents of his bubble bowl, I found him in rigor mortis under his plant. "Sorry, honey, your fishy died." I told Belle.
"Can I eat him?" she asked. (She asked a few more times, but considering his condition and not knowing how to cook a beta...) She ended up flushing him herself, and immediately after declared we needed to go to the pet store to get her a new fish. Then she started waxing poetic about what kind of fish she was going to get- can you guess? Nemo! So I told her she could pick her fish, but it had to be the same kind of fish that "Purple Fish" had been.
"I don't want to get that kind of fish- he was a dying fish. I don't want a dying fish." She told me.
Anyhow, her new beta is named "Belle" and I was told it is definitely a girl fish. Come on, a four-year old knows these things.
Later that day, Belle went to use the potty and forgot we removed the child potty seat for the fish flush.
"I fell in the potty!" She cried from the bathroom, "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Oops.