Los Gatos Weekly-Times

Pity the poor goldfish, especially the small variety

By Mary Ann Cook

How can one living organism--goldfish--embody both the least and most valued symbols of our society? Size alone determines our attitude. At one end of the status scale are the ones that are plump and expensive--koi, to be exact. These large-scale numbers command one of the largest outlays in the garden: Those who stock koi reap status, a moving testimony that their owners have arrived.

On the flip side of fish petdom are the tiny versions, coveted and tended by the undersized among us. Considered a perfect training ground for pet ownership, goldfish are wantonly put in the care of any child in the land old enough to voice a longing for same. Their advantages are legion: They are easily domesticated, don't have to be housebroken and, under most circumstances, don't bite.

They only require a bowl, some water and minuscule amounts of food. Well, sure, it's nice to have a castle or two for those who want their pets to have a taste of higher living. And shells and other beach memorabilia add to the ambiance so the little nippers don't get homesick, but these subtleties are optional.

What isn't optional is what happens next: The caretaker's enthusiasm wears itself out, and woe to the water-bound. Its days are perilously few. In early pet ownership zeal, the fish may be overfed to the point of explosion, but as the weeks wend on, the wet one will be forgotten, soon to die of neglect, unless more grown-up folks take over the tending.

What parents tend to forget in answering the call for a pet is that goldfish are prone to answer the call of the grim reaper rather regularly and rather abruptly, and sometimes through no fault of the caretaker, whatever his age. Pale (sea)horse floats by; pale rider, formerly quite golden, ascends.

Owning a goldfish is the first taste we get of the "real world," which translates to an unjust, hostile environment, a world where goldfish, even those well-attended, have a marked tendency to go belly up.

Who among us hasn't endured the heartache of flushing a tiny creature, now bloated and gray, down the toilet? Or, in more humane households, watched our parents execute the foul and grisly deed?

To show just how low goldfish are in the ultimate scheme of things, think back a few years--20, perhaps. It sounds like a '70s thing.

In those freewheeling and bizarre days, goldfish were found in the heels of plastic, see-through high-heeled shoes. How on earth did that particular product get past the watchful eyes of the SPCA, to say nothing of the spoilsports in the fish and game division of the government?

If we can assume that a goldfish bowl is hazardous to goldfish longevity, imagine the circumscription of the heel-bound. These fish were less than an inch long, and perhaps more than one was encased therein. But you had to wonder what possible felony those fish had perpetrated to have led to such dire consequences, such certain death.

Our society shushes any mention of death, but in this case the silence has to be broken. What happened to those tiny beings once they died? Did the wearer undergo periodic heel replacements? Were people painfully aware the wearer was coming before her entrance? Nothing presages an arrival more uniquely than the aroma of dead fish. Such shoes were obviously disposable items, one season in the sun at most. They had a summertime feel. But it's hard to imagine them lasting through one wearing, much less a season.

Though fish heels as fashion may be long gone and good riddance, goldfish as a fashion statement are still in. Now they're appearing as table decorations at weddings and other festive occasions. A fortunate few are taken home as favors. Are they headed for a benevolent home or a careless one? There's no way of knowing. Like orphans everywhere, the poor devils are forced to take the luck of the draw when it comes to foster parents.

All of that is worrisome enough, but you have to wonder about another offshoot in this widening and spurious custom. Can the practice of goldfish swallowing be far behind?

Mary Ann Cook is a Los Gatos Weekly-Times columnist.

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