Goodbye Buzz

The first clue I had that one of our two goldfish had died was that it was lying on its side in stationary limbo between the bottom of the tank and the surface of the water, the plastic plant gently wafting at its face. The second clue was that it was dead.

Perhaps I exclaimed too much, for Isaac (our five year-old) came into the room just as I was scooping poor Buzz out of the water, with a net usually used for fishing in seaside rock pools.

“What’s happened?” he asked. I have my tongue between my lips: dead fish are surprisingly hard to scoop.

“I’m sorry dude, but Buzz is dead.”

I direct him back into the lounge, as I take Buzz into the downstairs toilet and send him on his way through the sewers of England. An undignified send-off, agreed, but it was raining outside; and plus, who buries a fish?

Back in the lounge, Isaac is upset; not just about Buzz, but because it’s dawning on him that sometimes things die.

I say: “Buzz has gone to play with the other fish in the sea.”
“Does everything die?” he asks.
“Everything that’s alive dies eventually, yes.”
“Do dogs die?”
“Yes.”
“Cats?”
“Yes. But things only die when they’re very old.”
“Does that mean Nanny will die?”
(Nanny is 91.)
Pause.
“One day, but not right now.”

I placate him with promises that next week we’ll buy another fish. In the meantime, Woody (the other fish) is mooching around the tank; his little face a mixture of sadness and anger, as much as his fishy facial muscles will allow. In a token gesture, I change the water. (Also because I’m perhaps feeling a little guilty that the stagnancy of the previous water might have contributed towards Buzz’s downfall.)

Later, Isaac and I are discussing new fish names. After a few suggestions, we settle on Swirly: ironic, really, considering how Buzz left the family home.

Ben Wakeling is an award-winning blogger, author and freelance writer who lives in England with his wife and three children. Be sure to visit his blog, Goodbye, Pert Breasts – Diary of a Newborn Dad.