“Fish”sues Issues

 “You should get a pet fish” were the words that floated past my college friend’s lips.The words caused the acid burning, throw up sensation in my throat.

As a coming of age women, you want to take care of things. Loved ones. Plants. Pets.

Living single in a box of a dorm room limits your ability to really “nurture” any of those things, and pet options were in fact limited to fish…and if you were a rebel willing to get written up by the R.A., you might venture into the realm of perhaps a gerbil. My friend’s suggestion threw me into a cold sweat, which warranted an explanation.

It was an icy Colorado winter, wrapped in a foggy haze; your breath caught in your lungs making it hard to breathe. Snotcicles hung from steamy nostrils. I was four years old….

What I had in my mind as a four-year old was a small, bright orange goldfish. Smiling. Much like the fish from Cat in the Hat…I’d be OK with it if it talked. When Grandma offered to get my sister and I some fish, I was elated, but when she showed up with a large tank and two “goldfish” in hand, disappointment washed over my body.

The goldfish were hardly gold at all. Actually, they were brown. Poop brown. And big….no small, smiling, shimmering, sensational Seuss fish…no. Big, poop brown carp. Poop eaters. Poop Brown, poop eating carp that grew to whatever environment you put them in. Did I mention granny bought a friggin’ huge tank?

Dad had a fuse on his temper about the length of a bobby pin, which meant that often times he would throw things…out the front door. Burnt toast? Toaster out the door. Cat scratching the sofa? Cat meows filled the neighborhood air. Poop brown non-Seussical fish that gotsobigandnastythatyoucouldn’tkeeptheirtankclean….flip flop little fishies…no flushy down the toidy for you.

You can imagine the horror as I watched the nasty fish suffocate and flop to their death on the frozen tundra called my yard. It would be an understatement to say in that moment I was traumatized.“Uh, no, I don’t think I want a fish.”

“Listen, you need to face your fears head on.” My suitemate’s words offered no comfort.

Fine….let’s do this thing.

I headed to Wally World in search of the fish that would heal me from my childhood wounds. And there he was. Bright, shimmery orange, with flowing tail and fins, and a fat little belly. I think he even smiled a bit.

“That’s the one I want.”

After five attempts at fishing Mr. Fish out of the tank, the clerk was finally successful. Little did I know that today was a two for one special. In the very moment that the net was about to be pulled from the tank, an albino fish hopped on board.

Without missing a beat the clerk chimed in “Actually, these guys do better in pairs. You should just keep him as well.” I knew he was just sick of playing “Go Fish”.

Alright. Whatever. I’ll keep albino fish.

And then. I saw him. In all his grossness, albino fish turned, and swallowing his whole right eye was a black spot painted on the background of his pasty, albino, flakey, disease infested flesh. He looked like Chuckie. I named him Pisser.

“I bet he eats the other fish by morning” My friends had the impeccable capability to really talk someone down off of a cliff. Well, eat the other fish, he did not. HOwever, “otherfish” hardly made it the week through. “Otherfish” was quite short-lived really. So short, that I can’t recall his name. Oh heartache!

And do you think Pisser would die? I made attempts at helping Pisser to the big fishbowl in the sky. No food. check. My room was so hot in the summer his water almost boiled. Still no go. Shoot, I wouldn’t even clean his bowl. And do you think he cared? No. In fact he almost thrived in a toxic environment. Of course he would. Devil fish.

Eventually, Pisser gave in. I was so ticked at the whole escapade that I let him rot in the bowl for a few days before flushing him down the loo. Disgusting, yes. Don’t judge.

Conclusion: Fish make crappy pets. And I will now and forever have “fish”sues issues.

So if you ever do try out fish as a pet, make sure you’re ready to do so Bravely.