Friday, December 17, 2004
RIP Ferdinand
It's been a weird week.
The office fish, Ferdinand, died. This was actually more distressing than I had thought it would be. And just how, you are obviously wondering, did I end up that attached to an office fish, and also, why did your office have a fish?
It's a looooonnnnng story *Looks up at the ceiling and thinks: does anyone remember Wayne's World? You know that bit when Wayne and Garth are doing all of the different endings? Okay, insert that "doodledoodoodledoo" noise that they did here*
About six months ago, someone in the office got a goldfish. Which they kept in a large wine glass (?!) The goldfish kept trying to commit suicide. No, really. It would leap out of said wine glass and flop about in a disturbing manner on the carpet until someone could grab it and put it back into the wine glass.
So, one day, when the someone was not in the office, several of my workmates did a snatch and grab of the goldfish, got him a new tank, with a bubbler and actual room to swim in and pebbles down the bottom and bits of green weedy stuff and, after all of that, christened him Jebediah. And he was happy as happy could be. We had all hoped that this rather pointed "You are not qualified to look after fish" exercise would stop the someone from putting any other fish through the same horror, but what do you know? About a week later there was a siamese fighting fish swimming desperately around in the wine glass.
Let me pause for a moment to relieve my feelings. AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG!
Okay, I'm good. Where were we?
So, soon after the appearance of the new fish, said someone got a job elsewhere and was obviously not going to take the fish with them. See above for my reaction to this.
So, after the someone was gone, we got the fish a humungous vase like tank, with colourful pebbles down the bottom, and some swirly weedy stuff to play in, and named him Ferdinand. And he seemed okay, and definitely more cheerful than when he was in the wine glass, but due to utter craposity of the office's air conditioning system, was generally too cold or too warm and remained fairly bleh about the whole situation. Also, he was perched on a bookshelf, surrounded by people who held the mistaken concept that fish of any type do not form attachments, do not have memories and above all should not be communicated with and in fact should be relieved of their life in all instances!
So I brought Ferdinand downstairs to my office, and put him next to my desk, and got him some groovy new weed to hide amongst, and he seemed really happy. Every morning I would come into the office and he would press his little non existent fish nose against the glass and flap his fins excitedly at me, and I would form my hands into fin approximations and flap my fins at him, and we'd do the little happy fin dance of greeting. Every morning. People walking by must have thought I was insane. And yeah, you know, I probably am.
Anyway, he wasn't looking well for the last couple of weeks, and on Monday morning I walked in and couldn't see him in the tank. Finally, with the help of TheAmerican, I found him wedged down low, between the pebbles and the glass. And I surprised myself by feeling this thrill of shock and sadness go through me, and my eyes filled up with tears, and I realised that I was really upset that he was dead.
I think the thing that got to me more than anything else was the reaction of my coworkers. Mostly it was "Cool, dead thing next to ZuckerBaby's desk! Check it out!!" But thankfully, Nebuloid came to my rescue. She fished Ferdinand out of the tank and took me downstairs and found a spot in the gardens that are out the back of work and buried him. I did the traditional funeral thing and held the large black umbrella above her to protect her from the threatening skies.
We've still got the tank, and it's still full of the last lot of vegetation I got for Ferdinand, because it's pretty and brings some colour to the office. But I'm looking forward to getting rid of it all later this afternoon, and saying goodbye for the last time to that little fin flashing guy.
The office fish, Ferdinand, died. This was actually more distressing than I had thought it would be. And just how, you are obviously wondering, did I end up that attached to an office fish, and also, why did your office have a fish?
It's a looooonnnnng story *Looks up at the ceiling and thinks: does anyone remember Wayne's World? You know that bit when Wayne and Garth are doing all of the different endings? Okay, insert that "doodledoodoodledoo" noise that they did here*
About six months ago, someone in the office got a goldfish. Which they kept in a large wine glass (?!) The goldfish kept trying to commit suicide. No, really. It would leap out of said wine glass and flop about in a disturbing manner on the carpet until someone could grab it and put it back into the wine glass.
So, one day, when the someone was not in the office, several of my workmates did a snatch and grab of the goldfish, got him a new tank, with a bubbler and actual room to swim in and pebbles down the bottom and bits of green weedy stuff and, after all of that, christened him Jebediah. And he was happy as happy could be. We had all hoped that this rather pointed "You are not qualified to look after fish" exercise would stop the someone from putting any other fish through the same horror, but what do you know? About a week later there was a siamese fighting fish swimming desperately around in the wine glass.
Let me pause for a moment to relieve my feelings. AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG!
Okay, I'm good. Where were we?
So, soon after the appearance of the new fish, said someone got a job elsewhere and was obviously not going to take the fish with them. See above for my reaction to this.
So, after the someone was gone, we got the fish a humungous vase like tank, with colourful pebbles down the bottom, and some swirly weedy stuff to play in, and named him Ferdinand. And he seemed okay, and definitely more cheerful than when he was in the wine glass, but due to utter craposity of the office's air conditioning system, was generally too cold or too warm and remained fairly bleh about the whole situation. Also, he was perched on a bookshelf, surrounded by people who held the mistaken concept that fish of any type do not form attachments, do not have memories and above all should not be communicated with and in fact should be relieved of their life in all instances!
So I brought Ferdinand downstairs to my office, and put him next to my desk, and got him some groovy new weed to hide amongst, and he seemed really happy. Every morning I would come into the office and he would press his little non existent fish nose against the glass and flap his fins excitedly at me, and I would form my hands into fin approximations and flap my fins at him, and we'd do the little happy fin dance of greeting. Every morning. People walking by must have thought I was insane. And yeah, you know, I probably am.
Anyway, he wasn't looking well for the last couple of weeks, and on Monday morning I walked in and couldn't see him in the tank. Finally, with the help of TheAmerican, I found him wedged down low, between the pebbles and the glass. And I surprised myself by feeling this thrill of shock and sadness go through me, and my eyes filled up with tears, and I realised that I was really upset that he was dead.
I think the thing that got to me more than anything else was the reaction of my coworkers. Mostly it was "Cool, dead thing next to ZuckerBaby's desk! Check it out!!" But thankfully, Nebuloid came to my rescue. She fished Ferdinand out of the tank and took me downstairs and found a spot in the gardens that are out the back of work and buried him. I did the traditional funeral thing and held the large black umbrella above her to protect her from the threatening skies.
We've still got the tank, and it's still full of the last lot of vegetation I got for Ferdinand, because it's pretty and brings some colour to the office. But I'm looking forward to getting rid of it all later this afternoon, and saying goodbye for the last time to that little fin flashing guy.
