Monday, April 21, 2008

Ask not for whom the bell tolls

The fish and I are really ill. That is to say I have a chronically sore throat, so painful I do not want to speak and cannot shout - even when provoked. As for the fish, they are in an even worse state. Obviously they cannot speak either so there is a possibility we have the same disease but then again they appear to have chunks of flesh falling off them and, according to the book I just read they may have a "threadlike parasite" hanging off their nether regions which I definitely did not have the last time I looked. This is really bad. Not only am I in agony but I think the fish might just die on me. Already. And we have been so careful. Washing hands, adding chemicals to water, waiting for the water to heat up to the appropriate temperature, regulating feeding, etc, etc. Even worse, I have begun to care about them - I quite liked the way they appeared to have their own little personalities, my daughter's fish infinitely quicker and pushier than those of the boys. And now they look like they might die on me. Life sucks. I thought the biggest problem was my seven-year-old had been so desperate for a pet, he wanted to net one and get it out to stroke it. This afternoon, we made a trip to the village pet shop for advice. The woman in the pet shop had the biggest, fattest goldfish I had ever seen. Fifteen years old, she told me. I said: "What's it called?" She said: "Fishy". I thought: "I bet that took a lot of thinking about." She sold me a little pot with a pipette and I had to pour more than 16 capfuls into the acquarium. This is why I did not want fish. I am going to come down one morning really soon and there is going to be a silvery bell tolling, an aquarium with a temple from the Lost City of Atlantis on the kitchen hearth and three corpses floating in it.

18 comments:

Laura Jane Williams said...

There should be a rule about fish that cost as much as those things did dying prematurly. There would be if I ruled the world.

girlwiththemask x

Iota said...

I think you are wise to prepare yourself...

Pig in the Kitchen said...

thank you for the timely reminder; I must not get pets for my children.
Hope the fish perk up, any chance of doing a cunning, moonlight swap with healthy fish? and the kids will be none the wiser?
Pigx

Sarah said...

I'm not sure the kids will be the ones needing bereavement therapy-
Hang on in there, Wifey.
Hope you are feeling better, soon!

ADDY said...

My neighbour had goldfish and every time one died she would tell her small son they had gone on their holidays. A week later, while he was at school, she would buy another and say they had returned from their holidays. It's either that or explain to the kids about the circle of life.

Elsie Button said...

Sadly i don't think goldfish are built to last - the slightest tiniest little thing seems to throw them off kilter

You could try swapping them. Although, when my friend's hamster escaped when she was little, her mum quickly replaced it, but about a week later the original one came back! (i don't think you'd have that problem with goldfish)

Hope you are feeling better soon.

Mopsa said...

For goodness sake go and get a moggy (they tend to look after themselves, can be stroked and play a lot)and cheer yourselves up with a fish and chip supper.

Ali said...

My son's 99p goldfish have cost me a fortune and so much stress it's incredible.

First, one died of a nasty tumor, or rather, it faked death then started flapping about just as we showed aforementioned son 'the corpse' to say his goodbyes. Cue hysteria.

The other sod has grown so much I had to spend £100 on a new, larger tank.

If I had a neighbour with a pond, I'd be encouraging it to leave home this summer.

aims said...

You could try guppies or kissing gouramis....the guppies are really hardy - or a shark...but if your son wants to pet it - maybe not the shark...

Stinking Billy said...

wifey, I was tempted to joke that you could get arrested for staring at the nether regions of anything, but I could see that you wouldn't be amused. It's always a shame when fish don't live long, but telling the kids is the worst bit.

Anonymous said...

Remind me not to go to the same place as you did for the fish Amy's going mad for! They usually last a maximum of 3 weeks in this house so I was hoping for a better outcome.

Hope the sore throat improves, take care and get some rest.

CJ xx

occasional northerner said...

We used to bring ours to Northumberland in a tupperware box for the week-end. Sadly we widened their horizons to the
extent that one (used to a wider world) jumped out of the bowl one night and died. Its pal had died already. We don't miss them!

Swearing Mother said...

Fish are doomed in our house, I could never get them to survive for long. Luckily the garden centre down the road used to open quite early in the mornings, so when I came down to breakfast first thing and noticed a fishy fatality, I could pull on my jeans over my pyjamas and race down to the "aquarium" bit of the garden centre and buy another one (or occasionally two).

My kids were so sweet, if they noticed a size, fin or tail difference, they never said anything. Either that or they were really, really stupid.

Expat mum said...

I remember always having sickly fish as a youngster. My mother would sometimes put the plug in the kitchen sink, turn the cold tap on full then fling the fish in. The shock got their systems going again but alas, yours sound a bit further on that that.

Anonymous said...

I am mixing batter right now!! Best to try and make the best of a bad thing do you have any malt vinegar or just this poncey wine stuff?

Pam said...

It's impossible to kill those things that suck the side of the glass (plecs?). Maybe try one of those?
Please don't get them hamsters or rats or mice - those pets do not die gracefully but shed fur, lie in their own wee and give up eating. Terrible to watch.
Hey - dogs are great though and stop burglars!

Sandra Montgomery said...

I am reminded of the time my mother gave each of the kids their own little aquarium kit (gee, thanks mom) and when my youngest daughter (12 at the time I think) brought home her new three goldfish and got them all settled in their new home, the cat jumped up on the table to take a really close look and one of the fish died on the spot. Heart attack I think.

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