You will never die

Meet Goldie. She is (was) SB's goldfish. SB has been begging for a fish for weeks now. Jack finally caved and told her that if she could be responsible enough to remember to feed the dogs for 10 days in a row, then she could have a goldfish. Last Monday was day 10.

Off they went to Wal Mart for a fish and all the trimmings. On the way, Jack prepared SB for the reality that sometimes fish die. They don't always live for a very long time, and we don't always know why. SB was sure that rule wouldn't apply to her. When she got home with Goldie, she was so excited.

I really wanted that fish to live. I read and reread the instructions on bowl preparation and went to great lengths to ensure a proper fish environment. I cleaned the bowl, rinsed the accessories, filled the bowl and waited for the water to reach room temp. Then I added the chlorine neutralizer, waited some more and then added some of that water to Goldie's bag so she could adjust to her new environment slowly.

SB was not prepared to wait so long to put Goldie into her new home. She passed the time by dancing around the living room swinging that bag singing, "You will never die! You will never die!"
I feared the worst. I also wondered if fish, like babies, could suffer from shaken fish syndrome.

Finally the bowl was ready. We released Goldie from her plastic bag into her new glass cage. SB was ecstatic. I asked her to make room on her bedside table for Goldie's bowl. She shoved all of her most precious possessions off of the table and onto the floor. Then she set up a chair in front of her table so that she could keep a close eye on Goldie.

Every few minutes, SB would excuse herself from the living room saying, "I'm gonna go check on Goldie." She would run into her room, sit in the chair and get eye level with Goldie. Then she would tell her a story or sing her a song or just chat about her favorite show Octonauts. She would report back to me after a few minutes with Goldie's status.

SB: "Mom. Goldie's hungry."
Me: "We feed Goldie at bedtime."
10 minutes later
SB: "Mom, Goldie's reallllly hungry."
Me: "It's not time to feed Goldie yet."
10 minutes later
SB: "Mom, Goldie--"
Me: "We aren't feeding Goldie right now. I will tell you when it's time."
SB: "I was going to tell you that Goldie is hot."
Me: "How do you know that she's hot?"
SB: "She's going like this" she made a fish face
Me: "Okay I will turn on the air conditioner."

At bedtime, we fed Goldie. But Goldie didn't seem very hungry. The next morning, we tried again. Still not too hungry. Not a great sign. SB continued to check in on Goldie throughout the morning, serenading her with all of SB's favorite songs. Every few minutes SB would give me a status report on how Goldie was doing. Around 10 that morning, SB came in and said, "Mom, Goldie is pretending to be dead, but she isn't."

She sounded so sure of herself. Goldie wasn't really dead. She was just pretending. What an amazing fish, learning how to play dead already! I went to see for myself. Sure enough, there was Goldie, playing dead and giving an Oscar worthy performance. I steered SB out of the room and told her that we would wait for daddy to get home and check.

SB got concerned and suggested that we call the vet. I suggested that it might be a little late for that. Jack came home and pronounced Goldie dead that afternoon. SB was only devastated for about 10 seconds until Jack assured her that we could get another fish. SB has already named him Goldie. I have decided that SB will not be allowed to dance around the living room with this one.