Fishy

Upon returning from my nightshift this morning I was greeted by the sight of one of my fish floating belly up, mouth gaped open and quite obviously dead. It was a very old fish, and I believe it died of natural causes being practically geriatric at over 8 years old.

I inherited these fish from whelk, these (plural) because it had a companion, who was swimming around the deceased as I walked in. What is bemusing is that I surprised myself in becoming a lil emotional about this..and somewhat girly. I felt it wasn't nice for the remaining fish to be bumping into the deceased as it swam round, so would have to remove the corpse from the bowl. I did consider leaving this to my housemate but after some time pulled myself together. It was a peculiar sensation using the net and not having to chase it around the bowl, or feel it flapping around.I don't know what to do with it now though, couldn't face flushing it down the toilet, didn't want to bury it as the cats would smell it and eat it...so ended up placing it in a take-away container for afore-mentioned housemate to deal with.

Where I inherited them from whelk they didn't have names...yet still I was shocked to find myself a lil attached. Fish don't do much in a bowl, they aren't particularly affectionate, nor cuddly, and although I don't indulge in anthropomorphism often I thought the remaining fish looked a ll lost and lonely. Ok, I'm a sap I know...and as housemate pointed out goldfish have ridiculously short memory spans, so it probably wouldn't even remember the other fish.