Found pale and unresponsive at the bottom of the aquarium last Thursday, Eddie IV, plecostomus, friend, and avid sucker of all things stationary, has died.
He was of an undetermined age.
Unlike Yang and the mystery that surrounded his death, however, no alarms were raised with this recent bit of unpleasantness.
The unfortunate discovery was met with the blandest of exclamations.
“I dunno,” said Lady G’Agua, ornamental fins rippling. “He just never really took to the tank. How long was he here? Three weeks? I called on him on his first day, of course, but he wasn’t much for conversation.”
Goldie Spawn, floating belly-up as she so often does, feigning death only to dive, coquettishly, when approached, said only that they never spoke.
Tank-mates Gill Miloche and Blanket said nothing at all but continued to pick up and discard the same flotsam they had just picked up and discarded moments ago.
Those two are, according to Lady G’Agua and Goldie Spawn, “gross”.
Non-tank denizens and half-lidded watchers of fish Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) and Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers) were not available for comment, although the following was found attached to the bottom of the refrigerator, unsigned but in Liza Bean’s spiky, old-world script:
Birth, life, and death -- each took place on the hidden side of a leaf.
- Toni Morrison
New plecostomus "Cuddy", meanwhile, purchased late Sunday, continues to flit from surface to surface in a panicked state.
“Where am I? Who’s that? What’s for dinner? And - oh holy crap, where’s Todd?
“WHERE’S TODD???”
He was of an undetermined age.
Unlike Yang and the mystery that surrounded his death, however, no alarms were raised with this recent bit of unpleasantness.
The unfortunate discovery was met with the blandest of exclamations.
“I dunno,” said Lady G’Agua, ornamental fins rippling. “He just never really took to the tank. How long was he here? Three weeks? I called on him on his first day, of course, but he wasn’t much for conversation.”
Goldie Spawn, floating belly-up as she so often does, feigning death only to dive, coquettishly, when approached, said only that they never spoke.
Tank-mates Gill Miloche and Blanket said nothing at all but continued to pick up and discard the same flotsam they had just picked up and discarded moments ago.
Those two are, according to Lady G’Agua and Goldie Spawn, “gross”.
Non-tank denizens and half-lidded watchers of fish Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) and Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers) were not available for comment, although the following was found attached to the bottom of the refrigerator, unsigned but in Liza Bean’s spiky, old-world script:
Birth, life, and death -- each took place on the hidden side of a leaf.
- Toni Morrison
New plecostomus "Cuddy", meanwhile, purchased late Sunday, continues to flit from surface to surface in a panicked state.
“Where am I? Who’s that? What’s for dinner? And - oh holy crap, where’s Todd?
“WHERE’S TODD???”
28 comments:
When One-Eyed Willy died, after a mere couple of years of being the only fish I've ever known by name, I realised I was not cut out to be custodian of an aquarium. Luckily, One-Eyed Willy lived with my daughter so that didn't cause any problems. Condolences to Cuddy.
Hopefully someone will clue Cuddy in that it is best to not ask too many questions here. Gulp.
After my previous comment, I thought you could have also gone with a reference to the "new fish" in Shawshank Redemption who of course met an early and unfortunate end.
Poor Cuddy, ripped away from his/her life partner Todd and unable to decide on a permanent diner. Life is so precarious in a fish tank.
Fish are best fried or broiled and accompanied by a bit of lemon or lime and some tartar sauce, actually. Though stories like this are quite entertaining.
Are Liza or Dolly's paws wet?
Gil Meloche LOL
ONLY Pearl could write such an entertaining post about a dead fish.
Cats. Fish. Commuters. Is there anything you cannot tackle?
A new world is for adventure. The procurer of fish needs a better list of questions from the denizens of the aquarium.
Lady G’Agua.. Goldie Spawn. Tanks for the laughs. ;)
References galore - the sign of a writer with a wide range of interests! By my estimation, I'm only getting about half of them; thank goodness for google :)
Where's Todd, indeed!
The first pet that I ever lost was a fish...a goldfish named Henry. I was about 5 and I cried for days :)
Cuddy will soon forget - 4 seconds, isn't it?
Hari Om
S.I.P. Eddie IV.
Cuddy listen up - let it go, time to start over! If you meet Nemo, keep checking for pelicans...
&-\ xx
So much humor in one small tail, er, tale. "...and Blanket." Bwahahaha.
Sorry to hear about your fish. Sad tale.
I hate fish. Well, more specifically...caring for fish. You can't tell they are sick until it is too late, sadly. And I can't "fix" fish--I have spent fortunes on medications...and they still die.
I find relief in the news that some beluga or other exotic beast has died at the Aquarium--apparently the pros can't fix fish either. See? It's not just me.
As for Goldie--Swim Bladder Disease is a mutha. We've had numerous fish with that condition and I used to dread visitors who would peer into the tank and tell me "Uh, your fish is dead." and then I'd have to tell them "no.." and go into a 10 minute dissertation on what swim bladder disease is.
No more fish in the house. I quit. Done.
Cuddy, like most fish is incapable of enunciating the velar plosive --hard G-- and substitutes the alveolar plosive, T. I knew a minister with the same problem. As a result, many people who have found God are still looking for Todd.
You have my condolences. Our tank has been sitting empty for some time since our goldfish, Bri (short for Rainbow Bright) passed away from grief after his wife, Sandy (short for... Sandy) succumbed to her illness.
Soon after that, the movers cracked the aquarium anyway & we never got around to replacing it.
R.I.P. Sucka
I'm so glad there were no suspicious circumstances surrounding the fish's demise.
'Oooh fish flakes!!' is what Jewel says every morning when I feed the fish. I suspect she would prefer a 'meatier' fish treat, but the flakes suffice.
When I was a kid I used to keep fish. One day I found my albino Cory on the rug, dry as a bone and unresponsive. I tossed him back into the tank where he miraculously revived himself, eventually living another two years, but now swam a bit cockeyed, and made turns only to the left. I'm unsure how long he was out of the tank...
Polite Pleco's usually dont say much. Their mom taught then not to talk with their mouth full of glass.
Kathy bought herself some pet fish they only lasted a couple of days and died, so she replaced them the next lot died the first night she then gave up and decided fish do not like her.............
Whenever they interview the onlookers, they always say that the victim was quiet. Kept to himself. Seemed a little odd, but, you know, who can say? He didn't bother us, and we didn't bother him. A shame, though. When your number's up, it's up. What doesn't krill us makes us conger.
Poor Cuddy. I say take Todd back and get a refund or a replacement. New fish ought to last at least a week before they cark it.
Oh Holy Crap!!! You didn't bring Todd?
Cuddy better be worried about what the cats are planning on having for dinner...
Two years later...
"Like a dying Tommy on the battlefield crying for his Ma, Todd cried out for Cuddy in his final moments on the carpet, as the cat coiled to strike again."
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