Call me Darla – that’s right!
The fish killing, retainer wearing, red haired, fish killing, Darla.
And while Nemo was able to escape the wrath of this fine character, my fish, named “Fish,” faced his demise at my hands last night…
Six years ago, Fish was brought into my home in a plastic bag filled with water–my son’s souvenir from a local festival. After my initial reaction of, “What the hell were you thinking, bringing another live creature into this house?” – I actually became very fond of Fish.
In my motherly way, I took him in to my home, set him up in a tank, and called him my own.
Fish had a good life. I took exceptional care of him; He was fed every day – I changed his water periodically – on occasion, we even moved him around the house so he didn’t get bored with his surroundings.
Every morning when I would walk downstairs he was waiting for me. As soon as I would approach the tank he would begin shaking his little fish tail in excitement. He even learned to give fish kisses through the bowl.
Fish was an exceptional conversationalist – he would just listen without exception and he never disagreed or judged. As a matter of fact, he never really talked back at all – my kids could learn a lesson from Fish.
Did you know that goldfish can actually recognize people’s faces and they have an attention span of at least three months?
Shit, I can’t even remember what I had for dinner last night – and while I can’t back these facts with any substantial proof since I’ve never actually studied goldfish, I can say that Google led me to these facts and therefore they must be true.
Yesterday, as I engaged in what would become my final conversation with Fish, I noticed there was some algae forming in his tank. Knowing that Fish has struggled in the past with water changes, I reluctantly proceeded to clean the tank.
In the beginning, all seemed well; the initial transfer into his temporary bowl went fine. He was swimming and happy – it was all going according to plan.
We cleaned the tank, the filter was immaculate, it was simply pristine. I was like the freakin’ Molly Maid of goldfish.
And then it happened – things unraveled quickly – the final transfer back into the tank did not go well.
A happy go lucky Tuesday night took a turn for the worse – Fish immediately went belly up.
We stood and watched in disbelief…
For a while he was still breathing and wagging his fish tail. He was staring at me with his big fish eyes, as though he was pleading for help.
I immediately began sending Reiki energy through the fish bowl, and we all gathered with the hope of a small miracle.
I rushed back to Google to find some answers – you’d be surprised what you can find when you Google, “Fish swimming upside down after cleaning tank.”
And for a brief minute, there was hope. One article I found explained how Fish could be suffering from constipation. They recommended giving him a shelled pea – they are high in fiber.
It didn’t work.
At approximately 11:04 pm, I walked into my kitchen to find that Fish stopped breathing. He died alone.
Fish was buried at sea approximately 11:06 pm. My husband found me rolled up in the fetal position, hysterically crying at approximately 11:08 pm.
At 11:10 pm, I took a Xanax and went to bed.
Below you will find a picture of Fish. Well, it’s not an actual picture of Fish – but it looks like Fish so we’ll just pretend.
Fish was a fine finned friend and I will miss our conversations and Fish kisses. He was kind, loving, graceful, non-judgmental and he was an exceptional listener.
We could learn a lot from Fish.
May he rest in peace.
Continued Blessings –
Darla (I mean Deb)
PS. I just had the craziest thought – what if Fish was a girl?