For those of you who have looked at my humourously-written profile page, you may have noticed I mention I have a Goldfish that's been alive for 9 years. His name was Fred. I won him at a Carnival Midway. I foolishly decided to waste my money on a game where you won prizes for throwing pingpong balls into fish bowls. Most of the bowls were empty. Some had coloured paper in them that denoted a specific grade of prize (a bunch of useless overstuffed Made-in-China plush toys). 3 of them had live fish in them: a wee little goldfish, a koi, and a green and purple tropical one. I had only three shots, and my hand eye sucks, so my first two shots landed in empty bowls. On my third shot, I aimed for a tissue stuffed bowl closest to me so I'd at least get something; instead, the ball bounced off the lid and went "plunk" right into the Goldfish bowl. Honestly I never expected him to live a week. I thought an overly-common and boring name would almost make it kidn of charming so I called it Fred. He never grew that big, but he was the most "Gold" goldfish I've ever seen. Most goldfish are orange, but Fred was actually a yellowy gold colour, and his scales were extremely shiny; he was a proper goldfish. The years went on and I started to wonder how long this guy would last; but by the time I got to 5, I could tell this guy was not a normal fish. He was still swimming away even at that age, and I after that I stopped even thinking about it. Eventually he got old, and ran out of energy. The last year he just sort of slowly floated around at the bottom of the tank - whenever I walk by he'd just stop in place and stare at me. He's always done that, I'm fascinating to him, though I wonder how much thought he, a simple goldfish, really gives anything at all. In any case, he turned 10 in June. By then one of his eyes didn't work anymore, but he still gobbled up his food as hungrily as ever. Tonight, I came home from a trip and found him sitting at the bottom of the tank, barely moving. I went over and looked at him a bit. He used one flipper to turn towards me, then he looked straight at me like he always does. He stayed like that for a minute - then he slowly flipped onto one side, and floated up to the top of the tank. And that was the end of him. You don't really bond with a fish like you do a cat or a dog or a bird, but he's lived so remarkably long I feel I've lost something truly special and unique. Bye Fred.
That's actually kind of sad. What's really amazing about this story is that you kept him for the entirety of his little life when most people after winning a fish at a carnival would probably have flushed it after a day or two just so they wouldn't have to care for it. I know no other fish can replace dear Fred, but I hope you have another and see him or her live a remarkably long life too. =)
