Mr. Blue is Gone.
My cat followed me up the stairs tonight, I could hear her collar tag jingling. I turned around and stepped toward her, but she skittered away down three stairs and looked at me with big eyes. I called her, but she wouldn't come. I turned to head into the bedroom again, she followed me again. Jingle, jingle, jingle. I reached for the toy laying on the floor and swished it across the carpet, her pupils flared and dilated, her ears twitched and she attacked the toy. It made me smile, for just a moment. But I'll take it, because I've been crying since about 5:30 PM tonight.
Friday at lunch I stopped to see Mr. Blue at the fish store. He seemed to be doing better, was active and somewhat territorial. I was talking and Mr. Blue spotted me and swam directly over to me and bonked the glass with his nose, as if in greeting. They had put him in the tank with all the cichlid babies, some of which were his own. His side wasn't fuzzy anymore, but there was a spot, the spot where the fungus started, that looked pink and sore.
Yesterday I was out of town, but first thing this morning I called the fish store to check on him. The guy I talked to said he'd been out yesterday and wasn't sure which tank Mr. Blue was in, but he wasn't in the tank with all the babies. I asked if he was sure, was he maybe hiding behind the filter intake, he said "no... they wouldn't have sold him..." I tried to reach the owner of the store, my friend, to no avail. Of course I was imagining all sorts of things, Mr. Blue being sold or, God forbid, that he'd died.
An hour and a half later, the fish store called me back. Said he'd found Mr. Blue, that he was doing okay. A short bit after that, the owner called me back and said he'd treated the spot directly yesterday, that he preferred to keep Mr. Blue for another couple of days, that he wasn't ready to come home yet, but that he was doing okay. I said that was fine, I wanted to do what was best for Mr. Blue but I needed to bring the last of the babies by and drop them off later today. We agreed that would be fine.
Around 4:30 I rounded the last 10 babies up and took them into the store. The employee was busy cleaning the baby tank. I didn't see Mr. Blue in that tank, but since according to the employee he wasn't in the baby tank this morning, I didn't think anything of it.
The owner bagged the babies and floated them in the tank to accustom them. As he walked away to assist another customer, I started looking for Mr. Blue, just to visit him. I checked a few tanks and then spotted a blue fish, that looked like my Mr. Blue, all alone in the bottom tank. The problem was, that fish was upside down and his mouth was open. I knew it was him, but didn't want to believe it because according to my friend, Mr. Blue had been doing okay.
No, no, no. Oh God, no.
I approached my friend and said, "Please don't tell me that Mr. Blue is in a bottom tank all by himself. He said, "No, he's in with all the babies..." I replied that, no he wasn't... and I believed that the fish that was in the bottom tank was mine. And, if so, he was dead.
The owner checked with his employee and, yes, he had moved Mr. Blue to the lower tank thinking that he was sparing him polluted water while he cleaned the baby tank. The problem was, Mr. Blue's immune system was so compromised by all the treatments he'd been getting to clear up the fungus, that a tank change without floating him first sent him into shock and it killed him. He would have been able to come home in a couple days if that hadn't happened. Just that fast. A stupid human mistake.
And it broke my heart.
I stood in front of his tank and sobbed, my finger extended to touch the glass in front of Mr. Blue's face. My friend reached into the tank and cupped Mr. Blue in his hand. At that moment, Mr. Blue's eyes rotated forward as he looked at my finger. He knew I was there. Maybe he'd be okay??? Maybe? We moved him back into the baby tank, thinking the water he was used to would help him... it was a small hope. But it was to no avail.
His gills slowed and stopped. He never did recover. He was gone. I sat down between two empty tanks and just quietly sobbed. How could Mr. Blue be gone? He's such a tough fish, he's been through so much. I raised him from when he was a little baby, just like his babies. He made over 300 babies. How could he be gone?
I loved Mr. Blue. I know he had a good life and I know he knew he was loved and cared for. But he didn't deserve to die like this. I did what I thought was best because I felt like I was in over my head with treating the fungus, it wasn't getting any better with what I was doing. But really, I could "what if" and "should have" and "could have" myself all night. It won't do any good. Mr. Blue is gone and his tank is empty.
I buried him in the gardenia plant, the plant where I bury all my lost fish. I put him top side up, with his beautiful blue face pointing toward the sky. Toward Heaven. Because that's where he belongs and someday, when I go to Heaven, I'm gonna have a fish tank with my beloved Mr. Blue in it.
Dear Mr. Blue, I'm gonna miss you and your silly tank rearranging ways, moving your decorations and shoving your thermometer sensor under the light. More often than not, you would rearrange your tank and it looked like it was shipwrecked. You hated that glow in the dark plant and I put it in your tank just because I wanted to pester you. You always managed to flip it upside down, like it was a garbage can. And that always made me laugh. But it was okay because you were in there. A messy "room" is fine, as long as you're alive. I loved watching you watch me, sometimes you'd hide and peek out at me, other times you'd follow me inside your tank as I moved around the room. You were so spunky and feisty and I loved that about you. You were the man. But tonight, your tank is quiet, no thumps or rat-a-tat-tats. And that's just so wrong. I'm gonna miss you so much.
I love you, Mr. Blue. More than I probably should've.
Beautiful, Mr. Blue.
Empty, quiet tank.
This loss is gonna hurt for awhile...
Friday at lunch I stopped to see Mr. Blue at the fish store. He seemed to be doing better, was active and somewhat territorial. I was talking and Mr. Blue spotted me and swam directly over to me and bonked the glass with his nose, as if in greeting. They had put him in the tank with all the cichlid babies, some of which were his own. His side wasn't fuzzy anymore, but there was a spot, the spot where the fungus started, that looked pink and sore.
Yesterday I was out of town, but first thing this morning I called the fish store to check on him. The guy I talked to said he'd been out yesterday and wasn't sure which tank Mr. Blue was in, but he wasn't in the tank with all the babies. I asked if he was sure, was he maybe hiding behind the filter intake, he said "no... they wouldn't have sold him..." I tried to reach the owner of the store, my friend, to no avail. Of course I was imagining all sorts of things, Mr. Blue being sold or, God forbid, that he'd died.
An hour and a half later, the fish store called me back. Said he'd found Mr. Blue, that he was doing okay. A short bit after that, the owner called me back and said he'd treated the spot directly yesterday, that he preferred to keep Mr. Blue for another couple of days, that he wasn't ready to come home yet, but that he was doing okay. I said that was fine, I wanted to do what was best for Mr. Blue but I needed to bring the last of the babies by and drop them off later today. We agreed that would be fine.
Around 4:30 I rounded the last 10 babies up and took them into the store. The employee was busy cleaning the baby tank. I didn't see Mr. Blue in that tank, but since according to the employee he wasn't in the baby tank this morning, I didn't think anything of it.
The owner bagged the babies and floated them in the tank to accustom them. As he walked away to assist another customer, I started looking for Mr. Blue, just to visit him. I checked a few tanks and then spotted a blue fish, that looked like my Mr. Blue, all alone in the bottom tank. The problem was, that fish was upside down and his mouth was open. I knew it was him, but didn't want to believe it because according to my friend, Mr. Blue had been doing okay.
No, no, no. Oh God, no.
I approached my friend and said, "Please don't tell me that Mr. Blue is in a bottom tank all by himself. He said, "No, he's in with all the babies..." I replied that, no he wasn't... and I believed that the fish that was in the bottom tank was mine. And, if so, he was dead.
The owner checked with his employee and, yes, he had moved Mr. Blue to the lower tank thinking that he was sparing him polluted water while he cleaned the baby tank. The problem was, Mr. Blue's immune system was so compromised by all the treatments he'd been getting to clear up the fungus, that a tank change without floating him first sent him into shock and it killed him. He would have been able to come home in a couple days if that hadn't happened. Just that fast. A stupid human mistake.
And it broke my heart.
I stood in front of his tank and sobbed, my finger extended to touch the glass in front of Mr. Blue's face. My friend reached into the tank and cupped Mr. Blue in his hand. At that moment, Mr. Blue's eyes rotated forward as he looked at my finger. He knew I was there. Maybe he'd be okay??? Maybe? We moved him back into the baby tank, thinking the water he was used to would help him... it was a small hope. But it was to no avail.
His gills slowed and stopped. He never did recover. He was gone. I sat down between two empty tanks and just quietly sobbed. How could Mr. Blue be gone? He's such a tough fish, he's been through so much. I raised him from when he was a little baby, just like his babies. He made over 300 babies. How could he be gone?
I loved Mr. Blue. I know he had a good life and I know he knew he was loved and cared for. But he didn't deserve to die like this. I did what I thought was best because I felt like I was in over my head with treating the fungus, it wasn't getting any better with what I was doing. But really, I could "what if" and "should have" and "could have" myself all night. It won't do any good. Mr. Blue is gone and his tank is empty.
I buried him in the gardenia plant, the plant where I bury all my lost fish. I put him top side up, with his beautiful blue face pointing toward the sky. Toward Heaven. Because that's where he belongs and someday, when I go to Heaven, I'm gonna have a fish tank with my beloved Mr. Blue in it.
Dear Mr. Blue, I'm gonna miss you and your silly tank rearranging ways, moving your decorations and shoving your thermometer sensor under the light. More often than not, you would rearrange your tank and it looked like it was shipwrecked. You hated that glow in the dark plant and I put it in your tank just because I wanted to pester you. You always managed to flip it upside down, like it was a garbage can. And that always made me laugh. But it was okay because you were in there. A messy "room" is fine, as long as you're alive. I loved watching you watch me, sometimes you'd hide and peek out at me, other times you'd follow me inside your tank as I moved around the room. You were so spunky and feisty and I loved that about you. You were the man. But tonight, your tank is quiet, no thumps or rat-a-tat-tats. And that's just so wrong. I'm gonna miss you so much.
I love you, Mr. Blue. More than I probably should've.
Beautiful, Mr. Blue.
Empty, quiet tank.
This loss is gonna hurt for awhile...
posted by Jammie J. at
11/05/2006 10:01:00 PM
