to everything there is a season

Foxy Winston Flaherty passed away peacefully at home Saturday, May 10th. She was preceded in death by her cousin, Balloon Winston Flaherty. Foxy had a wonderful spirit and will be sorely missed. She died in her sleep.

Well, make that OUR sleep. We woke up on Saturday morning and she was not moving. We actually went out to breakfast before I got a chance to tell the kids. When Aunt Sheila arrived, to find an empty house and a dead goldfish, she was desperately trying to contact me on my cell to see if she should dispose of the body before they saw it.

Well, I didn’t have my cell with me, so Cooper and Fergus got to see the scene of the crime. They were quite stoic. “We kept Foxy alive for a LONG TIME,” Cooper told me. “Oh, yes,” I concurred. “Six days is a long time. Apparently.”

“Now we flush Foxy down the toilet and she goes back to the river!” Fergus yelled. First I was worried they’d be too upset; now I’m worried because neither one of them seems to give a crap. Oh well. All my fretting and worrying about keeping Foxy alive is over, at long last.

I did leave one thread hanging in my previous post: How did Balloon (and Foxy) die? Clearly, goldfish are sensitive of temperament, but I was dutifully following all instructions, neither over nor underfeeding, leaving their water till it was cloudy but not overly so. (Talk about the Mother Load.) And yet, still, they passed. I have only one clue as to the reason for Balloon’s particularly speedy passing: a conversation I overheard in the kitchen between his two titular keepers.

COOPER: You know, Ferg, it’s your fault Balloon died.

(I almost intervened right there. “Cooper! That’s a terrible thing to say!” Then, something told me to hear him out.)

FERGUS: No iss not.

COOPER: Yes it IS.

FERGUS: No iss not.

COOPER: Yes it is. You were the one who put salt in their water.


FERGUS: Fishies wike salt.

I haven’t googled “goldfish toxic salt” yet, but really, do I even have to wonder?

Next time we’ll try a different pet. Although I have a hard time keeping non-human living things alive. Whatever the opposite of a green thumb is, that’s what I have. Plants wilt in my presence. Goldfish expire within the week. I mean, puppies can handle a little salt in their kibble, for pete’s sake. On the other hand, you can’t flush a puppy down the toilet, should expediency be suddenly required. I might need to think this out first.