My Goldfish

My goldfish is ill. I've got two left now - a fantail, and a weather loach. They've huge, about five years old. Anyway, my fantail is spending most of her time upside-down on her back, gasping. She also appears slightly bloated, and has ... um ... what appears to be hemerroids. I crouched beside the tank today, mentally running over all my knowledge about goldfish health, and finally diagnosed her as suffering from an internal bacterial infection resulting from fin and tail rot that I had thought I cured. (the hemerroids are an unknown factor). I hurried to the pet store and spoke with the clerk there. He confirmed my diagnosis, and helped me pick out some medicine. So I've begun the routine today - two teaspoon-fulls in the tank each day for seven days. Hopefully it will do the trick, because this could be fatal otherwise.

I have had a lot of heartache over my goldfish. My saddest recollection involves Joey. Joey was the cutest goldfish I have ever laid eyes on. He was silvery-grey, with a blunt face and fat cheeks. He looked like a little toddler (if you stretch your imagination just a tad, lol). He lived for five years, and was the most popular fish in the tank. He was best friends with Edith - the fish who is ill now. Edith used to get blisters in between the two fans of her tail. Joey was attracted to them, and chased Edith around, trying to bite the blister. One day, as he was doing this, the blister burst in his mouth. The poison went right down his throat. Poor Joey fled to the floor of the tank and lay there gasping. That's when I witnessed proof that fish are thinking, sympathetic creatures - Edith positioned herself in front of Joey, and began to fan her tail back and forth in front of his face! She was trying to create a current so that he could breathe. I was astounded. What a cool thing! Within a few moments, Joey had recovered and he and Edith retired to the far corner together.

About a year after that incident, Joey developed an unknown illness. Over time, he lost the ability to swim, and could only sit on the floor of the tank. Sometimes he would roll onto his side, and he no longer breathed easily. I noticed he wasn't able to get to the food, since he could hardly move around, so I started scooping him up in my palm and rafting him around, after the largest flakes. He was completely tame, and would settle comfortably in my hand. His little lips opened and closed as he gathered in his lunch. The other fish took all of this in stride.

Then I noticed he had a sore patch on his side, and soon discovered that the weather loach (a long slender fish with a round mouth rimmed with tentacles) was picking at the sore. Joey wasn't safe anymore, and so I sank a plastic see-through pail in the tank, and moved Joey inside it. The pail had a lid with perforations in it, so the water moved in and out. Each morning and evening, I would take Joey out of his pail, and bus him around after his meals. He made himself quite at home in the pail. The other fish would hover around, and Joey would rest against the sides nearest them. I think he was content. I hope so.

I asked everywhere, what might be the matter with him, but there were no answers. He didn't fit any of the known diseases. I bought four or five medicines intended to treat diseases that sounded similar, but none of them did anything for Joey. Six months passed. Sometimes I would think he was improved, only to see a week later that he was actually worse. I began to feel guilty for causing him to linger so long, when maybe he would have preffered to escape his illness and just pass away. He didn't appear to be suffering, but then again, how would I know?

Finally one day, I sensed he was dying. I said goodbye - I held him in my palm and moved him among the other fish, they hovered around, and brushed against him. He seemed to be drowsing. I put him back into his pail, and the following morning he was dead. He was my favourite fish.

Now Edith is ill, and possibly won't recover. As I type this, she's upside-down again, staring at me through the glass. Oscar (the loach), will miss her if she doesn't survive. Keeping pets is quite often a heartwrenching experience.