A Goldfish Obituary

I regret to inform everyone, that my beloved fair goldfish, Garfield, passed away from natural causes this morning. Garfield was a good fish. He enjoyed swimming in circles, flapping his fishy fins, and watching the world go by from the confines of his fishbowl. Garfield had such a promising life ahead of him after Allison spent $12 to win him and free him from his plastic bag prison. Garfield is survived by his owner, Allison, and countless fellow goldfish brothers and sisters. In lieu of flowers, a donation can be made to the Garfield Goldfish Scholarship Fund. Services will be held in the downstairs bathroom at Allison's residence with Father Chris presiding.
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I have cried my tears and mourned over Garfield, but to be honest, it wasn't really a shock that he passed so quickly. Our family has never had much luck with goldfish. I think there is an invisible force field in our house. Once a fish passes over the thresh hold, his chances of life are slim to none. Now, I will admit, there were some times that the fish's death was out of his control.

Case and point, when I was a little kid and my parents found me sitting on the kitchen table petting our latest goldfish. Apparently, taking a fish out of water to pet it is not a good idea. However, my four year old brain thought it was brilliant. Blame my parents for that one. We didn't have any furry mammal pets, so I had to improvise. Also, I distinctly remember Megan and I skipping through the fairgrounds clutching our new pet fish and swinging the plastic bags in circles. I don't think you're supposed to do that...and then we wondered why "Goldie" was dead the next morning.

The fall seasons of my childhood were filled with opportunities to win goldfish. The Denver and Ephrata fairs provided many instances for my parents to drop cash for a scrawny, malnourished fish (and we wondered why they died? the fish is living - without food - in a plastic bag for 3 days).

Naturally, we named each fish and watched them swim in circles for hours the evening we brought them home. The next morning we would awake and clamor down the stairs to say good morning. The sight was always the same. Fish, belly up, floating at the top of the tank. Meg and I were devastated, and my Mother would sneak out of work during lunch to try and win us replacements.

The good news is that the Ephrata fair runs this week and will provide another opportunity to replace poor Garfield. RIP buddy, I hardly knew you.