I got home tonight and my beautiful Sharkey, the Goldfish I have had for 9 years, is what I would call ‘critically’ ill.
Sharkey was bought for me when I lived with my friend in the 2nd year of university. He has moved house with me 4 times since, jumped out of the tank twice and got swiped by one of my cats before I got down to pick him up, and he survived the attack!
He has taken pride of place in his own tank away from the main 50 gallon aquarium because every friend we gave him (including George), he ate. He grew big and he does have a personality, if only a little one. He has a 6 month memory (not 3 seconds according to the myth). I am a cold and fresh water fish guru, with fish breeding and fry rearing ability don’t you know!!
Anyway, he recognises me, kisses my finger (OK yeah he thinks it’s food, but I like to think of it as kissing), he recognises the food pot and tells me when he wants feeding. That’s all I would expect.
Yes call me geek, I have already been called an anorak today (I won’t forget!), so really it doesn’t matter. I love my Sharkey and now I am observing the end of his eventful 9 year life. I have shed a few tears tonight as it is a bit of an end of an era for me and all that mean cold horrible husband of mine did, was laugh! He is a very valuable pet to me, and whilst I could go and get another one for £5, they won’t be Sharkey and I’m emotional, so I am incredibly sad about it. That’s all I have to say on the matter. [Sigh].
