Last night one of the cats of this house attacked my beloved 4-year-old goldfish, Sailor.
Sailor is a fighter. (S)he came into my life at highschool senior prom - the theme was "Under the Sea" - in all the flower vases on the tables swam little, tiny, 10cent goldfish. At the end of the night, the students were asked to take them home. So I got a fish I named Sailor after our highschool mascot.
Sailor grew to an enormous size. Sailor accompanied me to Notre Dame - and even to my Nashville Retreat where "Sr. Mary Library" made a little paradise for him(her?). Sailor always traveled in a jar - yes, just like Gill from the movie "What About Bob?"
'Sr Mary Library's' Retreat for Sailor - Nashville, Jan 2008Sailor was a fighter - not only did (s)he withstand thousands of miles of travel, but also K80's demands to jump and do tricks, nights (and days) of frigid water, weeks of filthy water that I never seemed to change. - Sailor even survived falling down the garbage disposal of the kitchen sink!
But this last attack was too much.
After watching the Redwings loose the game last night, I went up to my room - Sailor was not in the fishbowl.
After a minute I noticed a shredded golden tail poking out from under a shirt on the floor - there was Sailor gasping in the air.
Emergency action was taken: Sailor was put in water and watched carefully. Sailor most listed to one side, head down, gasping every few minutes...but Sailor was a fighter and every ten minutes or so would muster all strength to swim a lap around the bowl.
After commending my little fish to the care of Father Francis, I gave up my watch and fell asleep.
In the morning, Sailor was no more.
Rest in peace, Fishy. I'll miss you. :-(
Sailor traveling home for Christmas 2005
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2 comments:
Ohhhh.
:(
Sorry about your buddy.
BAD CAT! BAD BAD CAT!
Dear Mary Liz,
I know right now that Sailor is definitely in fishy heaven, offering his fishy intercession for your fishy soul.
OK, in seriousness...we honestly don't know if he's in fishy heaven or fishy Purgatory. You really need to get on your knees and pray for that fish's fishy soul. No more of this fishy canonization crap at fishy funerals. That fishy could be frying right now, and what are you doing about it?
OK, in for-real seriousness, I'm sorry you lost your fish...he'd been through a lot with you (especially in your room junior year...that place was kinda strange). And I hope you're not stressin too much m'dear.
Johnny
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