Thoughts for Tonight
My goldfish is dying and I refuse to flush it before it takes its last breath. He/She has been around for so long I can't even remember how old I was when I got it. I remember going to Cloverdale Mall during one March Break after insisting I wanted a fish since they were giving them away out of their dinky fountain. I remember saying that after my massive tank of fish were cruelly murdered by my great-aunt that I didn't want anymore. But somehow, fishing out my own fish from a mall fountain/pond had its appeal. I think I fished out the prettiest one I could find. It was more whitish/silverish than gold, but it was a goldfish. They were all goldfish. It was also quite large. For a goldfish anyways.
Now this goldfish of mine has probably had a dozen names, all of which I can't remember but remember this. I've had this fish for years. I'm sure I was still in one of the primary grades. I even bought my fish some friends from Wal-Mart. They all died within a week. I had a project in the seven grade in which we had fish and recreated an ecosystem. Any fish that was leftover from that project have also perished within a few weeks. Lindsay from my class gave me hers since she had cats. There were 6 fish. The last of those died maybe last year. So those alone must have been 6 - 7 years old.
So, I think that my fish, which is now completely white (with some pinky spots), missing a few scales and probably WAY past his/her prime is about 12 - 14 years old now. And he/she is dying. She just lies there and won't really move. But he/she's still alive, fighting like it's done for years. I don't want to let him/her go now, he/she's one of the last things I have from my childhood and I want it to last for as long as possible. I'm selfish that way.
Death is a funny thing. When all my other fish passed on, I mourned for a few minutes before either flushing or burying it. They were all just other fish. But this one is special. Surviving all this time, being transported from the kitchen, to my mom's room, to finally the basement. Having countless little goldfish friends to play with. Surviving vacations in which I wasn't around. Or anyone for that matter. This one has pulled through it all. It even survived the blackout a few years back without an electricity to run its filter. I wasn't even in the country at the time either. Although, I think I cried when my other fish were murdered, but I was 4, so it's fair and expected. It's most likely an attachment thing. I felt this way when my birds died way back when. Neither lived past its prime, but it was still sad. I think thye're still buried in the backyard in fact.
I'm undecided about whether or not I will replace this fish when it's gone. I know it's a cruel thing to think about, but realistically speaking, he/she won't last much longer. I don't even know what's wrong with him/her. I don't think I will, no other fish would last as long, plus it just won't be the same. Although, I may be persuaded if it was a clown fish. Or one of those panda looking ones. Otherwise, it won't be the same. Plus, I've never met another fish that's lasted this long before.
Hopefully, it won't happen just yet.
For Steph-Steph:
Michelle Branch - Breathe (Chris Cox Penetrating Club Mix)
- because I know you like his name.
Now this goldfish of mine has probably had a dozen names, all of which I can't remember but remember this. I've had this fish for years. I'm sure I was still in one of the primary grades. I even bought my fish some friends from Wal-Mart. They all died within a week. I had a project in the seven grade in which we had fish and recreated an ecosystem. Any fish that was leftover from that project have also perished within a few weeks. Lindsay from my class gave me hers since she had cats. There were 6 fish. The last of those died maybe last year. So those alone must have been 6 - 7 years old.
So, I think that my fish, which is now completely white (with some pinky spots), missing a few scales and probably WAY past his/her prime is about 12 - 14 years old now. And he/she is dying. She just lies there and won't really move. But he/she's still alive, fighting like it's done for years. I don't want to let him/her go now, he/she's one of the last things I have from my childhood and I want it to last for as long as possible. I'm selfish that way.
Death is a funny thing. When all my other fish passed on, I mourned for a few minutes before either flushing or burying it. They were all just other fish. But this one is special. Surviving all this time, being transported from the kitchen, to my mom's room, to finally the basement. Having countless little goldfish friends to play with. Surviving vacations in which I wasn't around. Or anyone for that matter. This one has pulled through it all. It even survived the blackout a few years back without an electricity to run its filter. I wasn't even in the country at the time either. Although, I think I cried when my other fish were murdered, but I was 4, so it's fair and expected. It's most likely an attachment thing. I felt this way when my birds died way back when. Neither lived past its prime, but it was still sad. I think thye're still buried in the backyard in fact.
I'm undecided about whether or not I will replace this fish when it's gone. I know it's a cruel thing to think about, but realistically speaking, he/she won't last much longer. I don't even know what's wrong with him/her. I don't think I will, no other fish would last as long, plus it just won't be the same. Although, I may be persuaded if it was a clown fish. Or one of those panda looking ones. Otherwise, it won't be the same. Plus, I've never met another fish that's lasted this long before.
Hopefully, it won't happen just yet.
For Steph-Steph:
Michelle Branch - Breathe (Chris Cox Penetrating Club Mix)
- because I know you like his name.