In loving memory

Tragedy struck this morning. There will be mourning, much wailing and gnashing of teeth, in the Sacramento Valley. Napoleon, my beloved goldfish, passed away. I think I'm taking it kind of hard, considering he's a fish. But he's not just a fish, not any old fish. Napoleon was my fish. I got him as soon as I moved here, the very first full day I really spent here. It was my dream to have a fish. And finally I was living in a non-dorm, a place that allows pets.

Napoleon was my mainstay, my helpmeet, my grad school buddy. In a new place, surrounded by new people and new demands, he is what I returned home to.

He made me happy. And, though I'm plagued by self-doubts following his death, I believe he was happy. John says he was a happy fish. And John can tell. He's an expert. As a behavioral ecologist, he knows fish psyches. He's probably just saying that to make me feel better, he's sweet. But Napoleon never seemed too morose.

He had this happy dinner dance that I loved. I'd rattle the food can around a little bit to get his attention before feeding him. As soon as he noticed, he'd start flitting about excitedly and swishing his tail in anticipation.

It's hit or miss with fishes, I guess. Some live long lives, others die within a week. I suppose Napoleon and I were pretty lucky to have 8 months together.

And of course, I can't help but fear I did something wrong. What if it's my fault that my fishy friend is no longer with us? Maybe if I cleaned his bowl more regularily than once a week? Maybe he was hungry? But I fed him without fail... Maybe it was the yucky, agricultural-runoff, Central Valley water? Maybe he had the ick? He sometimes got white spots on his head (like fishy acne), but they always cleared up quickly enough. Though I don't know if there's really anything I could have done about that.

It was almost certainly the weather. It probably just got too hot for Napoleon. Warm water holds less oxygen, so he might have suffocated. Quite literally, he could have drowned.

The weather hypothesis is substantiated by the day's other tragedy. Today really was a bad day for me and mine... As soon as I found out about Napoleon's demise, I called John. Upon hearing my bad news, he went to check on his (unnamed) pet Salamander. Salamander died too. How unbelievably sad. Such autocorrelation in aquatic to semi-aquatic pet mortality hardly seems coincidental. Yet the only factor they experienced in common must be the weather. The recent, abrupt rise in temperatures must have been too much for them.

So I'm pretty sad about it. But I'm extremely glad that I took pictures of Napoleon back in September in my excitement over having him. So I got a frame and some matting for one of them. Now I have a little "shrine" to Napoleon on my wall. It's a nice picture. He looks happy on my wall. And I got a pretty flower (a fuchsia) to put in Napoleon's spot. It'll be a tribute to him. Also, it'll help fill that space on my bookshelf, so that I'm not constantly reminded and saddened by the emptiness there. And I got a matching frame for John. I hope that he has a picture of his salamander. Otherwise, I have a picture of a Prague cathedral filling the space.

Once finals are over, I think I'll get a real aquarium. With a filter, and a bubbler, and a thermostat. And I'll populate it with a Napoleon Jr., and plenty of friends. I always wanted to get fishy friends for Napoleon. But his bowl was too small. They said it might disrupt the equilibrium and end up killing them both if I put another fish in there. I had plans to get a larger bowl so that Napoleon could have a buddy. I'll still do it. But in memory of Napoleon, rather than for him. Hopefully it'll be a nicer fishy environment than the little bowl. If there is a fish afterlife, maybe it'll make him happy. Like people dedicating park benches to lost love ones. Napoleon was a loved one.

I know it's sentimental mush, but maybe Napoleon and the Salamander are ghostly friends. Maybe they're hanging out together, talking about John and I, how much they liked us. There's a time and place for sentimental mush, and I think this is it. Indulge me =). Despite not taking it seriously, it's comforting.