“Mommy, I really, really want a pet,” begged my oldest daughter, Penny earlier this year at the pet store.
“What pet do you want?” I asked.
“A fish!” she shouted, excitedly.
“A fish?” I repeated, while attempting to hide my smile.
My husband and I didn’t grow up with the typical household pets as kids, there were no cats or dogs in our homes, although we both owned bunnies, hamsters and gerbils as kids. We’re both allergic to cats, and a dog is just too expensive and too much work for our family to take on right now.
Six months ago, after debating for months about what type of pet we’d bring into our home, my husband returned from the pet store with a fish for our daughters. I had been rooting for us to get a pet bird, but reluctantly accepted our new pet fish into our family.
However, I did establish one rule for our new pet. Since Daniel made the ultimate decision to bring a fish into the family, he would be in charge of feeding and caring for it. I wasn’t sure what the results would be, but I knew that at least the burden would be out of my hands.
As the months went by, our fish, which my two oldest daughters christened “Olivia, became a fixture on our kitchen counter. I’d watch her swim around while I washed dishes and puttered around, dicing onions, smiling at her soothing presence. I became attached to our little fish, much more attached than anyone else in our family.
A few weeks ago our furnace broke, and while we attempted to warm our home and keep our kids safe, little Olivia was the last thing on my mind. After the furnace was replaced and the dust settled, I noticed Olivia wasn’t quite herself. We cleaned her tank since it was getting a bit grimy, but I could tell something wasn’t right with her. A week later I knew the end was near, and within a few hours she died.
I felt a sense of loss that I wasn’t expecting. Shockingly, my kids weren’t fazed at all. My two youngest children, eighteen months and four, didn’t even register that the fish was no longer around. My oldest daughter was upset that we chose an animal with such a short life span.
“Mommy was right, we should have got a pet bird!” she said.
After researching proper disposal methods of deceased fish, I learned that flushing fish down the toilets was no longer acceptable. The diseases carried by the fish can spread into our ecosystem and infect native fish species. We ended up disposing of the fish in the garbage, or rather, my husband did.
For the last week I have noticed the empty spot where Olivia used to swim happily around. I’ve missed her, the only family member who seems to have actually been impacted by her absence.
Maybe next time we’ll get a pet bird, but I’m thinking next time won’t be for awhile.
