ladysprite (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladysprite) wrote2009-01-25 07:29 am
ladysprite) wrote2009-01-25 07:29 am
Entry tags:
Farewell, Fishy
Way, way back many years ago, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
umbran's roommate decided that he wanted to start keeping tropical fish. I can't remember exactly why, but that doesn't matter anymore. He got a tank, and put together a pretty decent freshwater setup, and we all went out to pick out some fish to put in it - I was brought along mostly because, while I didn't live in the household, I spent a decent amount of time there, and I'd had fish while I was growing up.
We got a whole bunch of colorful little fellows - neon tetras, catfish, mollies... and one pink gourami. Because we'd always had gouramis in our tank when I was little, and I thought they were pretty, and I liked the funny faces they made. We took them all back to the apartment, got them acclimated to the tank, and settled in to take care of them. That was... ten or eleven years ago at least, maybe more.
Since then, Schwa (he earned a name by virtue of being slightly bigger and more unique-looking than all the other fish) has been a constant in our lives. He survived the roommate moving out and leaving the tank with us, moving from one tank to another, and from one house to another. He outlived all the other fish, and their replacements, until we eventually stopped replacing them out of fear that, being far bigger, he would just eat them all. he grew from the size of my thumb to the size of my palm.
He survived temperature shock during one bad water change, and in an alarmingly memorable event he survived escaping the tank while we were both out of the house, managing to fend off both cats and avoid dying of dehydration until my then-boyfriend came home, found him, and put him back in the water. At that point, I more or less assumed he would outlive me.
But over the past six months he's been slowing down. Swimming closer to the bottom of the tank, moving less, recovering more slowly from water changes... and while I wish there were more I could do as a doctor, well, he was a fish. And not even a fish with a diagnosable illness; just one that had outlived the average lifespan for his species by at least five years. And I have neither the setup nor the expertise to do more than treat minor fish ailments.
Last night we noticed that he was Really Not Doing Well, and this morning... he was gone. And I feel so utterly ridiculous for being so upset, because he was just a fish. Just a silly little pink fish that sat in the corner in his tank and made kissy faces and ate the occasional unsuspecting neon tetra. I couldn't exactly pick him up and cuddle him and pet him, and I'm fairly certain he was completely unaware of my existence - while there are fish who will swim up to the front of the tank and bob around to greet you, he wasn't one of them. He just liked to wander back and forth behind his plants.
But he was a fixture. As much as I joked about him being immortal, there was a part of me that wanted to believe it. And he was funny, and pretty, and if you can love a fish, then I loved him. And the shape of my world has changed, now that he's dead.
Goodbye, Fishy Schwa. I miss you. And while we may eventually get new fish for the tank, I doubt any of them will ever quite live up to your memory....
umbran's roommate decided that he wanted to start keeping tropical fish. I can't remember exactly why, but that doesn't matter anymore. He got a tank, and put together a pretty decent freshwater setup, and we all went out to pick out some fish to put in it - I was brought along mostly because, while I didn't live in the household, I spent a decent amount of time there, and I'd had fish while I was growing up.We got a whole bunch of colorful little fellows - neon tetras, catfish, mollies... and one pink gourami. Because we'd always had gouramis in our tank when I was little, and I thought they were pretty, and I liked the funny faces they made. We took them all back to the apartment, got them acclimated to the tank, and settled in to take care of them. That was... ten or eleven years ago at least, maybe more.
Since then, Schwa (he earned a name by virtue of being slightly bigger and more unique-looking than all the other fish) has been a constant in our lives. He survived the roommate moving out and leaving the tank with us, moving from one tank to another, and from one house to another. He outlived all the other fish, and their replacements, until we eventually stopped replacing them out of fear that, being far bigger, he would just eat them all. he grew from the size of my thumb to the size of my palm.
He survived temperature shock during one bad water change, and in an alarmingly memorable event he survived escaping the tank while we were both out of the house, managing to fend off both cats and avoid dying of dehydration until my then-boyfriend came home, found him, and put him back in the water. At that point, I more or less assumed he would outlive me.
But over the past six months he's been slowing down. Swimming closer to the bottom of the tank, moving less, recovering more slowly from water changes... and while I wish there were more I could do as a doctor, well, he was a fish. And not even a fish with a diagnosable illness; just one that had outlived the average lifespan for his species by at least five years. And I have neither the setup nor the expertise to do more than treat minor fish ailments.
Last night we noticed that he was Really Not Doing Well, and this morning... he was gone. And I feel so utterly ridiculous for being so upset, because he was just a fish. Just a silly little pink fish that sat in the corner in his tank and made kissy faces and ate the occasional unsuspecting neon tetra. I couldn't exactly pick him up and cuddle him and pet him, and I'm fairly certain he was completely unaware of my existence - while there are fish who will swim up to the front of the tank and bob around to greet you, he wasn't one of them. He just liked to wander back and forth behind his plants.
But he was a fixture. As much as I joked about him being immortal, there was a part of me that wanted to believe it. And he was funny, and pretty, and if you can love a fish, then I loved him. And the shape of my world has changed, now that he's dead.
Goodbye, Fishy Schwa. I miss you. And while we may eventually get new fish for the tank, I doubt any of them will ever quite live up to your memory....
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#offers you caring hugs#
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Stupid things to get attached to, but it happens.
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They do have silly little expressions. Cute little guys... Perhaps you should get a tattoo. 8)
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I had a fish once. Just a carnival goldfish named Three Dog Night (3D for short); he lived in a bowl in my room. He lasted several years, which is sort of surprising because I'm not especially good at changing water and stuff like that, though I never forgot to feed him. And it sounds as if you'd had Schwa long enough to get really attached, which (as you note) isn't so easy with fish.
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And hugs offered... it's never easy losing a living creature that's part of your life.
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I'm fascinated by my friends' fish tank, and every once in a while they'll lose one of the more distinctive fish, and it's always a little sad. Any critter that you lived with as long as you did with Fishy Schwa, you'll feel its loss. *hugs*
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