I Almost Killed Fishy

I adopted my friend's fish on a Friday evening and was very excited about it. On Saturday morning I fed fishy and watched him swim around the bowl to get his morning meal of shrimp and krill. He was so cute. His tiny red side fins resembled a fan's blades propelling him forward while his long majestic bottom and tail fins reminded me of banana tree leaves swaying in the wind. When he was done eating he lingered near the surface so I thought he might still be hungry and threw in just a little more food which he promptly ate, reassuring me that he was indeed not full. On Sunday morning he seemed a bit sluggish when I went to say hello but I thought nothing of it as I fed him again, this time only the portion I was told to give him. Two hours later I came to see how he was doing in his new home and found him lying on his side at the top of the bowl. And then the freaking out began

He is dead!!!!! Oh, no he isn't. He's still breathing but omg he is going to die!!!!! How can I live with myself if he dies? How do I tell his previous owner that I had killed him in less than 48 hours? 

You might say "but it's just a fish." And you'd be right, but that's because you weren't that child that inadvertently killed one too many fish. I still remember my seven year old self distraught at the sight of 4 fish laying upside down dead and realising I didn't want another one ever again because my heart couldn't take another "death in the family." No, I couldn't afford to let this one die. Not again.

I googled what could be wrong with him. You know that time when you were sick and googled your symptoms and the internet told you that you had a life threatening disease or a chronic ailment? Yeah, according to the internet fishy was gonna die! I freaked out even more. I watched as fishy struggled to swim to the bottom of the bowl and floated back up against his will. I felt horrible but not as horrible as when fishy went straight down and stopped moving. My friend immediately said, "he's dead." I ran away and demanded he go check for being the deliverer of such bad news. One tap of the bowl revealed he was still alive but also shook him out of the leaves of the plant that were holding him in place. Now he reluctantly floated back to the surface and flopped onto his side.

It made sense. I had fed fishy too much food and his stomach bloated up, acting like a floaty that titled him off-kilter and prevented him from staying down even when he tried. My mind briefly drifted away to how life would be if humans faced the prospect of death from eating too much food. Why, we'd never be obese! Back to fishy. If only he had only eaten just enough and not all of it. I had almost killed fishy with love and now the only way to keep him alive was to do the very thing love never would...starve him, or so the internet said! Should I feed him the laxative the internet promised would help relieve his discomfort? What if that killed him and then it would really be my fault. I realised that I was letting my failure as a child dictate how I responded to fishy! How many times had I done this? How many times had I let a previous failure negatively influence my reaction to a present challenge? No time to be introspective now, fishy is dying! 

I sat there staring at him wondering what I could do. Occasionally I hit the bowl to make sure he was still alive. Should I leave him to rest? The internet said he could get fin rot if he didn't swim. But what if I wear him out and he gives up on life? So many questions and I needed to leave the house. What do I do???? Then I looked up and said, "God, you made this fish so you know what it needs. Give it the strength to keep swimming (Nemo came to mind) and not give up. Help it's little body expel the excess food. Don't let it die. Keep it alive please." Don't laugh at me! Yes, I just asked God to heal my fish and I felt better knowing that God could actually take care of the fish. He created it after all and He'd never let me down so why should it be different this time? "It shouldn't,"  I told myself as I left the house, albeit a little nervous. 

I came home several hours later to find fishy still on his side but alive! This morning I was greeted by a normal fishy again! It turns out God does answer prayers for fish. Ohhh, the little things. 

Swim fishy, swim!