"Just Keep Swimming"
I'd really intended for this entry to be done earlier, however if I had posted this on the actual "day of" it might have seemed somewhat tactless, as it would have followed right after that last bit o' nowhere where the rumours of my death were in fact greatly exaggerated. And I do want to commemorate this moment in time, at least as something to fondly look back upon.
It's no secret we host a small menagerie in our apartment. There's our Shih-tzu, Shady; our cat, Chance; the Holland dwarf lop, Tachi(koma); and Chucky, the goldfish.
Alas, Chucky is no longer with us. There's an empty fishbowl on the corner of the table where he used to swim.
I remember when Mel & I were first introduced to Chucky: Kevin & Dana had rescued him from friends who were...shall we say "rather negligent" in their fish-keeping duties. Somehow, Chucky had survived a year or two of sporadic
once or twice a week feedings and
once a month at best bowl cleanings. Upon seeing his plight, Kevin & Dana rescued Chucky and brought him to their old apartment...in Stratford.
(Yep, for a run of the mill goldfish, Chucky proved amazingly long-lived and resilient. Perhaps even, dare I say it, John Mclean-esque in his ability to endure. Yippie ki-ay?)
However, Kevin & Dana quickly realized their rescue plan had one flaw: their cat, Willow. While Harley pretty much stared at Chucky and mewed the feline equivalent of "WTF, mate?", Willow stalked poor Chucky every chance she could get. Three failed relocations (and two very close dinner calls) later, and they asked if we would be willing to take in Chucky.
Mel gave me the Bambi eyes. I couldn't say no.
And so Chucky came to live with us. Shady didn't care much for Chucky since he couldn't come out his bowl to play with her. Not long after, Chance joined our growing family...and he seemed about as disinterested as you could get. He knew Chucky was there, but I guess Chance wasn't really a "fish" sort of cat...unless I'm opening a random can that he honestly believes is filled with tuna.
For just over 4 years, Chucky was a happy addition to our gaggle. I am certainly saddened to see him gone, but he made us smile every day we had him, and he was as treasured as the other three pets are. And while it may seem silly to hold such sentiments about a goldfish, he was still family.
We'll miss you, Chucky.
And if you come across any large, menacing fish in that big ol' aquarium in the sky, make sure to kick their asses as you swim away from the inevitable underwater explosions. Yippie ki-ay, and all that.
Labels: goodbye to Chucky the goldfish
posted by Phillip at 8:26 PM
