Just What Is The Deal With Fish Anyway?
I was talking to Dio today – as I am always very happy to be able to do – and the subject came up about pets, having derailed it from being nothing at all about animals to begin with (but then I’m not really known for staying consistently on subject).
As we talked about our past pets, I started to talk about the fish my brothers and I had as young boys. We had cats, a dog, rabbits and a budgie as kids, but we frequently used to have a rolling turnover of fish – primarily because the fish had a tendency to roll, turnover and float to the top of the tank.
I’d try and give my fish interesting names, like Cake or Finger, and my brothers would always name their fish Jaws, to the point of having five fish in a tank all named Jaws. It was at that point, as I told Dio, that I realised naming fish that are almost completely identical was a really useless idea.
Ok, if you have fish with markings or different colours, you can get away with it, but if you have no way of identifying the fish then it can’t really help. You may as well just blindly wave at the tank and say “Oh, the fish are called…” and ramble off some names whilst trying to avoid the question “Really, which is which?”. The only real answer to that is “Oh, just pick one. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t come when called anyway…”
But fish are weirder than that, fish are also anti-social and xenophobic. For example, any time that our old cat, Outdoors, tried to reach in to the tank and give them a high five, they’d just shun and turn away. Maybe they were shy, but I get the feeling they were purposefully blocking the attempt at friendship to try and remain loners.
But, there was another issue that I wanted answering, something that had bugged me even after all these years: why goldfish, who are aquatic animals, choose to spontaneously leap out of tanks on to carpetted floors?
Now, my prevailing, optimistic theories had been that it was some sort of Steve McQueen-esque break to freedom, trying to jump the rim and bellyflop to the toilet so that they can make a way home, or that they keep trying to force evolution upon themselves?
But, no, Dio came up with the same answer that inhabited my shadowier thoughts, and likely the thoughts of some readers out there: i think its suicide
This is where we come to the true realisation about goldfish and their place in fish society in general. You see, the fish are anti-social and prone to suicidal thoughts. Fish are so emo.
Fish probably have MySpace pages where they use the blog to angst and tell about how they got kicked out of the little castle by the diver and how they think they are going to end it all with comments such as “there would be no red tide in the water, I’m going to reach for the stars”, “That mermaid thinks she’s all that, won’t go near me because I’m not some cool jock like that guy on the swim team by the little plastic bridge…I’ll show her, I’ll show her I’m hardcore!” and poems of “My pebble floor cuts me/I taste pain in my soul/It’s over for me/So alone in my bowl”. Their blog entries with titles like “Do you ever feel like you spend your life just going around in circles?” and “The bowl tastes of my tears”.
As Dio suggested: how can a fish know its crying if it lives in water, that sorta thing. To that, I believe that Emo fish know, their answer would be like “I’m salt water, not by my genes, but by the tears I shed for my tortured soul”, these creatures would describe themselves, not as goldfish, but as “fish, the colour of a burnt sunset against a clouded sky”.
It’s also not true that fish have a short memory, they don’t, it’s just most emo fish decide it’s not worth remembering anything because life is always ebbing away and instead just sigh and say: “whatever” v.v
So, that’s the truth about fish, and also the truth about why I’m probably the last person you should be chatting with in Google while studying.
Yes, I am proud that I managed to avoid using the title “Finding Emo” and being sucked in to that gag.
This post is awesome, pure awesome.
I had a lot of fish when I was a kid too, but I killed more than a few whilst attempting to cuddle my scaly brethren.
And since we’re on the topic of pets, I put a call in to a breeder last night and in 9 weeks I become the proud owner of a Boxer puppy, yay me.
XD XD XD That was the best Art 113 B Class I’ve ever had. You wanna know what I was painting?
A painting of the Great Barrier Reef. XD Irony, thy name is art class.
Heh, now imagine having to work alongside or live with me. I’d drive myself nuts, I’m sure.
Also, Josh, cool news on the puppy, and I’m really glad that that was how you chose to end a sentence that contains “I put a call in to a breeder last night” in it.
Great entry as always my friend but I have to disagree with a few points. Up until a few years ago I was the proud owner of several goldfish and not only could I tell them apart but they were actually social creatures. Granted I’d owned these fish for several years and had gotten to know their personalities (such as they were) and had quite a bit of fun with them. I used to be able to make them yawn and had them trained to come to the top of the tank for treats. Incidently, fish hate it when you trick them into yawning.
As for names, yeah they don’t really respond well to the whole naming thing but I was able to tell them apart, Fish, the oldest, was a monster by goldfish standards. By the time he went to the great aquarium in the sky he was over 8″ long, and Trigger, his partner fish, was a little over 6″ when he went to the great fish school in the sky.
I do however have to give it to you on the suicide attempts, Fish tried several times to off himself in his youth. Once by doing the famed jump for freedom and the other by trying to swim thru the top hole of the castle at the bottom of the tank and getting stuck. He was a resilient little bastard though, he survived both those attempts as well as several moves to different locations before hanging up his fins.
And I think it’d be fun to work with you Guise, we’d have loads of fun driving our co-workers insane!
Oh and Josh, congrats on the puppy!
Dan, the majority of goldfish sold to children here tend to be identical and rarely grow much, so I guess there must be continental differences. It’s easier to tell them apart if they grow, sure.
Never owned a Goldfish, I had some sort of shark and a couple of Siamese fighting fish though.
I’ve thought about getting some more fish but I have two cats so I dont think I’d be able to keep the little buggers alive for long.
Funny story about the Siamese fighting fish. At one time I had the goldfish as well as a tropical tank and decided that a Siamese fighting fish would bea good addition with the tropicals. Well the fighting fish was killing my guppies and neons so I decided to transfer him over to the goldfish tank. He thought it would be a good idea to pick on Fish to establish dominance and well……Fish ate him.
And Guise I hope you don’t think I was bashing your article, I was just relating my experience with goldfish. Your right though, until they actually have markings or some way to distinguish who’s who, naming them really is pointless.
Heh, it’s cool Dan, I just meant that for the most part the pet store goldfish around these parts are far, far too similar. I think they might be performing dawn shootings of any fish with distinguishing features.
Had a betta once. Named red. Wicket tried to off him.
But then Wicket died under mysterious circumstances.
Racecar tried to off him too.
More than once, I believe.
Then, some time after, Red stopped eating.
And then, one day Red was Dead.
I think Racecar told Red something.
And Red saw fit to take care of his own ends-
the kind of ends that take vigorous contemplation-
the kind of contemplation that causes you to forget to eat.
So ya. Suckage.
I find that way too funny. Sorry kittymao, I realize Fish suicide is no laughing matter.
Posts like this are exactly why I hang out here…not as much as I should as of late, I know, but I plan on doing something about that. This was pure genius. I had my fair share of fish when I was a kid but they all seemed to be pretty canabalistic and just offed each other in no time.
I wonder if the emo ones swim around contemplating exactly which eye they should stylishly flop their fin over on top of–dyed pink of course.
And what the hell is a budgie? Yeah, I know I could look it up but whatever explanation I find won’t be near as interesing as I’m going to find here.
Budgie is parakeet.
But I can’t help but think about a bird that likes to “go in the out door”-
as Bill so tastefully put it a ways back.
Well, they do like a cockatoo…