Some of your goldfish-related questions answered.

I've been feeling kind of guilty about the number of hits I get from goldfish-related search phrases put into Google. Usually, these are folks who have phrased their question rather inappropriately, as discussed here. Others are just too bizarre; I still get regular searches for goldfish swallowing fetish (I really don't want to know, thanks).

However, I thought it was time I tried to answer some of the genuine goldfish-related queries that have inadvertently lead people here.


What might a goldfish have to complain about?

I only look at Sitemeter from time to time and I've seen this several times over the last couple of years. I imagine it must be an essay set for school Key Stage 2 Existential Philosophy. I guess the question is meant to enable the student to consider the unique nature of the human experience, to attempt to define what makes one human with particular focus on our ability to change things we don't like. A goldfish may not do this; it may resist or flee from a situation of distress, but it does not have the agency to change its life or environment. And what it certainly can't do is employ the help of others in this regard.

Complaining is a uniquely human behaviour in which a person implores other members of its species to help them exact change. However, at the same time, people tend to complain when they feel a situation is unfair; without knowing whether a goldfish's lot is unfair or not, the goldfish has little to complain about. That's probably roughly what the teacher is after.

Then again, it may be a creative writing exercise where the student is asked to anthromorphise. In which case, a goldfish might complain about the myth that it only has a seven-second memory when actually it can remember quite a lot from one day to the next - like sights and sounds associated with a food supply. Apart from that, the living conditions of pet goldfish may give it cause for complaint in a variety of ways. The BVA AWF has some advice about good goldfish husbandry in Goldfish as First Pets.


Can a goldfish die from depression?

Reading between the lines, I sense that the reader is experiencing guilt over the death of a beloved goldfish. Was the reader, by any chance, reading poetry to the goldfish when it shuffled off its mortal coil? Was the reader, by any chance, reading their own poetry to the goldfish when it kicked the bucket? Did the goldfish have a melancholic look in its eyes when it heard the second couplet rhyming "you" with "blue"? Did the goldfish gaze open-mouthed as they concluded with the sentiment that it was the reader's "only friend", before turning on its side and floating to the surface of the tank?

If so, it was probably dropsy or something.


How can I teach my goldfish to speak?

Teaching a goldfish to speak English required dedication and tireless endeavour and is not a task to be taken on frivolously. You will have to speak to and preferably read to your goldfish (Shakespeare and the Classics of English Literature are essential) for a minimum of two hours every day. And it needs to be every day if you hope to be having basic conversations with your goldfish within ten years. They are slow learners and of course, a goldfish is a fragile creature and may not survive to master yes, no, please and thank you. For this reason, I recommend educating several goldfish at once to increase your odds.


What do goldfish do when we are not looking?

Let's put it this way. Remember that cat and three kittens (later named by vets Hope, Freedom, Flag and Amber) that miraculously survived in a box of napkins in the basement of the World Trade Center when it collapsed? Didn't you ever wonder whether perhaps they were the real target and the whole thing was orchestrated by vengeful goldfish?


Smack the goldfish

This blog does not condemn corporal discipline for aquatic pets. A stern talking-to is usually all your goldfish requires.

One each end and steady as we go

Am gradually recovering from Blogging Against Disablism Day. I really want to say thank you to those people who did get about and leave comments places; you know who you are, I do too and I very much appreciate that. It felt rather as if I had made the horrendous mistake of hosting an enormous party when I wasn't very well, but a handful guests kept the party going whilst I passed out under the pile of coats. Thank you very much.

I counted 170 posts on Wednesday morning. Since then I have added several more. I'll perhaps wait until after the weekend and do a final count, but it's certainly an increase on last year. Which is great; I didn’t really expect or hope for it to be bigger and I certainly didn’t do anything to make it so. I was rather bitter at not being able to post anything myself, or get round and leave as many appreciative comments as I might have done, but it was, um, everso slightly taxing. And thank you very much to Vic for sending me a video full of Doctor Who for me to watch just when I needed it. I do love Doctor Who!

Meanwhile three things have happened. The remarkable luck of Lucky the fish finally ran out and she died on Tuesday, but Schmuck appears to be recovering. Later that day we gave the old brown car away to a young man who had the tenacity to knock on our door and ask if he could have it for banger-racing. And the piano arrived!

The piano’s arrival is a very good thing. We weren’t hugely confident of it fitting in here; we thought we might have to take windows out and suchlike to get it in but three burly men (who took lots of sugar in their tea), managed to get it round an impossible corner and into the room where we wanted it. And it makes a gorgeous sound even though it’s full of dust, hasn’t been tuned in seven years and I can’t only remember the first sixteen bars of Moonlight Sonata. It needs to settle for a few days, to the new temperature and humidity and then we’ll get it tuned.

Splashes to splashes, dust to dust

Klutz the fish made her final journey to the surface of my Dad's pond yesterday. She survived travelling 250 miles in a dustbin - including the coldest night of the year spent in a carpark somewhere off the A1. Then there was the flood and having to stay several days in the dustbin whilst it was established that we wouldn't be able to set the tank up soon enough. Then she survived being transferred into a pond outside with other, far hardier goldfish.

So she did pretty well but the stress of all this probably got the better of her; she acquired some sort of fungus and despite our best efforts (and eighteen quid spent on anti-fungal stuff), she died.

Which is a shame. And more worrying, both Schmuck and their kid Lucky have symptoms. So we're setting up a Fish Intensive Therapy Unit to try to keep them going; I really would be upset if we lost all three of them.

Klutz will be fondly remembered. Being a fish, she didn't have much personality. She would swim about a bit, eat stuff and lay eggs. She was much like every other fish you are likely to come across. But she was our fish. And now there's only Schmuck left out of the four we started with. You may recall the way that Gimboid left this world.

But apart from that, everything is okay. On the nature front, we saw two swallows, which don't make a summer, but were still nice to see. And I think my head may be ever so slightly clearer today.

I've got a glorious feeling...

My letter may have worked. In the last 24 hours...

1. The car has been brought back to life by a spectacularly moustachioed man from the RAC. He had been to my folks' house before - last time to fix the Caterham which brother-in-law was driving. Here is a picture of a Caterham. -->

The ancient rusting Proton was probably a bit of a let down after that, but it lives to see another day.

2. The broken pipe is mended.

3. The chap has come, checked and serviced the boiler. This in combination with 2. mean that we now have heat and hot water. And fortunately it is all coming out of taps as opposed to the ceiling. Which is a plus.

4. The missing mobile phone has been found.

5. The house has working broadband. We imagined this would take weeks to set up, but it's there right now.

6. The fish appear have survived all the stress of the move, the changing temperatures, changing water conditions and all and are now swimming happily about in my Dad's pond. Yesterday the blackmoors skulked at the edge of the pond, the goldfish eying up these exotic incomers with suspicion. But today they all appear to be friends. Ebony and orangey...

They have been through a lot though - and I really am genuinely surprised they have survived. Of course, they need a few weeks before we can consider them safe. And they are now somewhat more vulnerable natural predators, like herons, than they were in the tank.

Anyway, it all seems to be going very well. We've half a mind that we might move into the house at the weekend, even if we won't have any electric lights, a kitchen ceiling or any means with which to cook. The kettle is working okay, apparently, so what else do we really need?

A fish worth its weight in gold

Ooh, I’m back already. I thought I was going to be stranded off-line until at least Tuesday, by which time I imagine you might have missed me, but due to the miracle of modern technology and the excellence service provided by Royal Mail, my popped router has now be replaced within thirty-six hours of its going pop.

In local news, Whitby has been shaken by the discovery of a rare haddock, worth its weight in gold. I thought the name of the chap they spoke to at the Sea Life Centre was appropriate, but I am still confused as to who is going to pay its weight in gold or equivalent currency. I sent roving reporter [...] out to Sandgate Seafoods to describe the scene.

"It was incredible," he said. That was it really.

Notice when an animal is described as a freak of nature it is considered to be of tremendous value.

I want to rock your gypsy soul

Today I am mostly listening to Moondance by Van Morrison which I bought on eBay for £2.74 including postage. When this sort of thing happens I am tempted to leave feedback along the lines; “Excellent seller, fast despatch, but rubbish taste in music.” How could anyone have parted with this piece of sublime loveliness for £2.74? It’s not quite Astral Weeks but it is rather special.

I have been writing, writing and um, writing some more. I spoke to my paternal Granny, which is always good impetus. She’s okay just now, doing quite well in fact. Today was the first time I’ve called up in about six months and it sounded like she had been awake before the phone rang. Even still, I have this fear that she might die before I finish the thing. She won’t much approve of what I’ve written - especially on the subject of religion in general and Catholicism in particular - and she won’t like all the swearing and sexual references. But she will enjoy reading it nevertheless and she has been such a support and encouragement to me. Less conditionally so than my folks.

My maternal grandfather would have been similarly delighted. He was a builder who had bookshelves full of Hemingway and D H Lawrence. He also wrote really bad poetry (I mean, terrifically bad poetry), mostly about family events. Rosie’s GCSE results, my uncle’s new car. He wrote a poem accusing me of stealing his favourite gnome, although in truth I was only one among several conspirators. And he always had somewhat exaggerated faith in my abilities. My paternal Granny recounts that during the last conversation they shared, he declared that I would be the next female prime-minister.

Talking of Rosie’s GCSE results (I wasn’t really, was I?), I thought I should share with you the fact that my sister’s GCSE Music Group got a 100% A-C pass rate. She was the only teacher in the school to achieve this – the overall average was only 55%. So that’s excellent, really, isn’t it? I'd say it's bloody marvellous.

Sleep is still a bit dodgy, but last I moved into the living room around five and watched the fish. Klutz and Schmuck were doing their fishy love dance and in the half-light looked like a ball of black flame swirling about. Lucky sat in a corner of the tank facing the other way, looking absolutely mortified at his parents’ behaviour.

Since I haven’t mentioned the fish in ages, you should be reminded that Klutz and Schmuck are six-year-old black moors and Lucky is the miracle that is their offspring. Miracle because for the first five years Klutz and Schmuck paid no attention to one another; they ate and they grew fat. They grew so fat that they needed a bigger tank, at which point they became sexual beings and started chasing one another around and laying eggs. However, every time they laid eggs, they would eat them all up. Once in a while you’d see the odd fry, whose egg they’d missed, but they it would get swallowed up within a day or two. Lucky was the one that got away. It took him about four months to get to a size where he is too big for them to gobble; every time you looked up at the tank you were sure he was about to get caught. Now six months old, he is still about a sixth of the size of either of his folks but he can now boldly swim beside them.He is not so fancy looking as his parents, but I think he is significantly more intelligent.

Changing the subject completely once again, if anyone has a genuine interest in forensic pathology and the like, check out the Virtual Autopsy at the University of Leicester. Be warned; this is not for the faint hearted or those who have eaten in the last hour, but an interesting resource. I have learnt more useless information in the course of researching my book that I learnt in ten years at school.

News from the Fish Tank

In the literal fish tank, some of the snails’ eggs have hatched and now we have tiny little snails, about the size of ants except with shells and no legs and living in the water. Having named the first eighteen snails Albert, I’m not sure what [...] intends to call these newcomers, if indeed they survive. Meanwhile, there are at least two fry from the three fry that were doing quite well insofar as they hadn’t been eaten yet, that still appear to be prospering. They are solid black now with distinguishable fins. They might yet be on the menu, but here’s hoping.

In the metaphorical fish tank, I went back to the doctors today and had a bit more luck. This time I got both my painkilling drugs upped. My doctor is very good really and a very groovy mountain-climbing motorcyclist to boot (although he doesn’t do both at once – as far as I know). So I’m feeling much more positive about my pain situation, which has been very bad in the last... maybe six weeks it's been worse. So it means more codeine, which makes me dizzy and uncoordinated and grinds my digestive system to a virtual standstill, but I can live with that. Worse things happen at sea, you know? Much worse things. Scurvy. Being attacked by pirates. Losing a limb to a shark or a sea monster. Getting seduced and subsequently drowned by sirens. To name but a few.

Today I am listening to Gary Numan. I absolutely love some of his songs, but most of it is rubbish. Now there's a critical analysis for you.

Spring has sprung - dwoiing!

Here is a very silly poem [...] likes to recite at this time of year;

The spring has sprung, the grass has riss'
I wonder where the birdies iss'
The birdies is on the wing!!
but that's absurd,
the wing is on the bird.

I have no idea who it is by - I did attempt to find out but I failed.

I think spring must have sprung. It's really warm and sunny and I'm thinking about going out without my trenchcoat. I only have to persuade myself to go out at all, which is taking some effort. I want to go out but at the same time I'm dopey and I don't really have anywhere to go. I think I will wait until [...] leaves the house then follow him about at a healthy distance.

There's an awful lot of sexual activity going on in our fishtank. The place is littered with roe (literally; the floor is covered with it, the glass is covered with it - there are even eggs above the surface of the water). The snails are also covered with the stuff, but they are getting up to their own shenanigans, especially the largest snail who seems to be either mating or laying eggs every time I look up. The first time we saw it mate it picked on the very smallest snail and we considered that the large snail might actually be attempting to eat the little one since it was squishing it about and sucking upon it. But then it let the little one go, trundled across the tank and laid a great long trail of eggs (about 50 x 8 millimetres - most of the snails only lay 8 x 8 millimetre blobs).

Some of the fry, the baby fish, seem to be surviving and growing without getting eaten, but I'm not sure if realistically they have any chance. Similarly, both the snails and the fish appear to like the taste of snail eggs. I don't suppose any of them have read any Doctor Spock.

I really want to get on with painting my wargaming figures and try to have a battle on Wednesday. Everybody else fights with half painted figures but I can't do this, they have to be perfect before they can be fielded. This is why I haven't had a battle despite having had these models since Christmas.

I also want to get on with my book, but I think I need to get some fresh air without the exercise before I can concentrate on anything. Easter is coming and Whitby may get pretty crowded with tourists - I hope it does for all my friends' sake whose livelihoods hinge on this stuff, but it does mean it gets rather uncomfortable in town.

By the way, dwoiing! is the sound of spring springing.

Snail update

We decided to name all the snails Albert except for one who we called Albert. Remarkably eighteen out of the twenty are still alive and the two that died were probably dead already – one had a nasty dent in its shell and one was, well, quite literally just a shell. Although the fish have shown interest in them, Klutz and Schmuck are as their names suggest rather stupid whereas we seem to have bought the most intelligent snails to even walk… slither… trundle along the planet. The snails, which are hermaphrodites (not asexual as I earlier suggested), have laid eggs but the fish are at least more cunning that stationary spawn and these have got gobbled up.

As for the functionality of our snail population, our tank has gone from being lined with a thick layer of green algae to being spotlessless clean in the space of a week. We thought it would take a while – naturally these things move at… well, snail’s pace.

Snail Mail - Literally!

Twenty snails arrived in the post today. Honest. I ordered them on-line a few weeks ago but they were apparently delayed by the weather (?). They are perhaps the most unusual thing I have ordered on-line except for a brood of chickens for a family in Africa on behalf of [...]'s nephew at Christmas but naturally the chickens didn’t come to our address.

The snails, some of which are yet to be named, will help to keep the fish tank clean as they trundle along eating algae and fish debris all day long. They also mate when left to their own devices, but with Klutz and Schmuck about, any eggs or offspring are liable to be eaten. In fact, the fish will attack the snails, which is why we’ve got twenty; we expect at least some of them to get sucked from their shells in a gruesome mollusc massacre.

There are two sorts of water snails, ramshorn snails which are kind of ammonite-shaped, flat coils if you like and stagnails which are curvy conical.

I buy most things on-line for a number of reasons, the biggest one being that I don’t get out much (you’d noticed, right?). I buy all my groceries on-line at Tesco, I buy most of my clothes in the world wide jumble sale they call eBay and I would never dream of buying any CDs or DVDs in shops – they’re always so expensive compared to places like 101CD and Play. The first thing I ordered on-line was a bra from Bravissimo and my mother became very anxious about my bra size being accessed by hackers, apparently unconcerned about the security of my credit card number. I have been ordering most things online for seven or eight years now and have had no major problems. But no live organisms before now.

In case anybody else wants to purchase water snails, check out Paul Bromfield Aquatics.

Goldfish Facts #5 (not really many facts though)

I had almost forgotten about this! Ah well, truth be told that this week I only have one goldfish fact;

• Dry fish food can make a goldfish constipated.
  

See? A bit rubbish. So instead I shall give you a run down all the other goldfish related blogs I found on the Internet today:

• The Goldfish Chronicles "Recording the attention span of a... oh look, a javabean"
• Blue Goldfish "discovery, journalling and conversation - primarily about culture, religious issues, and American politics"
• The Goldfish Bowl "Graham Tyler's thoughts on SharePoint, Live Communications and Office" (yawn!).
• La vasca del Goldfish I don't know what this one is about as I have no Italian but Altavista Babelfish translates the title as The Bathtub of the Goldfish and the bit which I think is the description as "In an pleasant evening housewife, to the eve of three days via for Passover, it is finally reached the moment of one carried out epochal for mine blog:" Okay...

There is also a Japanese site called the Goldfish Blog but I can't make head nor tail of it. Unlike the Italian one which we all understood. Naturally it is my intention to make this Diary of A Goldifsh, the most popular blog with the word goldfish in the title and today I have weighed up my competition. What do you think?

Goldfish Facts #4

Well, yesterday was about human rights, but today is Tuesday and it’s time for Goldfish Facts.

Actually we have a family story involving the Iranian Embassy. I was born on Christmas Eve, 1980 and my parents became certain of my conception at the beginning of May that year. My parents went round to tell my maternal grandparents about me, but were unable to get the news across to them that evening on account of the fact that the SAS was storming the beseiged Embassy live on television. My coming into existence was a mere trifle in comparison. You can read all about it (the siege, not my conception) here.

As for my conception, well my Mum once hinted that I was conceived to the great Adam and the Ant hit “Stand and Deliver”. That’s a whole heap more than I ever needed to know.

So then, today’s Goldfish Facts;

• Goldfish were first kept as pets in China and are considered “baby dragons” in Feng Shui. Thus they are very lucky if you have them in your wealth area (apparently the south east of your main living space). Ideally, you need eight goldfish and one black fish (the black one symbolises protection). Sounds like a load of carp to me…
• The first successful goldfish farm in the United States was opened in Martinsville in 1899. I discovered this on a page of Indiana facts. I guess that’s a state with a lot of history.
• There have been many songs written about goldfish. A search for the word goldfish on the UK version of iTunes produces 45 matches including the songs from Inspiral Carpets 1992 album Revenge of the Goldfish. (Can you tell I’m scraping the barrel here?)

If this is the first time you’ve read Goldfish Facts; check out previous editions #1, #2 and #3.

Oh and while I’m here, I earlier blogged about Yusuf Islam (the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens) having nothing to do with terrorism. Well last week a Judge ruled that allegations by the Murdoch press to that effect (i.e. supporting claims of the US government) were libellous and unfounded. So there. Read about the guy’s good work here.

Goldfish Facts #3

Well, I am feeling a wee bit perkier today (actually a lot better, touch wood, cross fingers, and have no digits left for typing) and I actually know what day of the week it is. That day is Wednesday, which means yesterday was Tuesday and you will all be wondering what happened to Goldfish Facts. Well, here they are;

• Goldfish lose their colour if kept in dim light. Apparently a goldfish will eventually turn completely white when left in a dark room. I don’t know whether my black moors would turn more black or perhaps go a little grey.
• The common goldfish is the only animal that can see both infra-red and ultra-violet light. Imagine seeing a greater spectrum of colours than you already do? Would the world be a more beautiful place? Well, I think it’s just splendid as it is (can you tell I’m feeling better today?).
• A goldfish-swallowing craze swept the colleges of the United States in the spring of 1939, starting in Harvard. You can read an article about it here if you don’t believe me.

That’s it for this week. If anybody’s got any exciting Goldfish Facts they would like to share with me and the rest of the world please feel free to drop us a line. Also, if you are coming to this page for the first time check out I begin to keep a blog and Goldfish Facts #2 in order to put this goldfish trivia in the context of more goldfish trivia.

Goldfish Facts #2

It’s Tuesday, it’s some time in the early hours of the morning, it’s time for Goldfish Facts! [...] made a point about my previous facts, which included the assertion that Jaws was the most popular name for a goldfish. Despite their sharp appreciation of irony, most goldfish have never even seen the film Jaws. In my experience, they prefer romantic comedies, in particular Richard Curtis movies about the charming if hapless lives of the British upper-middle-classes. Thus, they are much more likely to christen their offspring Sebastian or Henrietta. So my facts could have been wrong. And it may not be the last time.

So then, this week's three exciting, enlightening and perhaps, since it rhymes, frightening facts about everybody's favourite water-dwelling yellow-metal-coloured organism;

• In 1999 a Heron dropped a live goldfish down the chimney of a London family. The fish survived. There’s got to a punch-line to this one but I haven’t thought of it yet.
• Goldfish are thought to be (only thought, mind you) the most popular pet in the world. More popular than cats and dogs. I don’t find this surprising at all. Goldfish may not be able to fetch your slippers or purr when you stroke them, but they never bring wounded birds into the house and they scare the bejesus out of potential burglars. This is because of the direct link between anti-social and criminal behaviour and an irrational fear of having one's eyeballs sucked out by a goldfish. Honestly, I read a study all about it.
  
• And finally, a semi-fact. All over the Internet I find reports about the existence of a breed called the Chinese Lettered Goldfish; goldfish with Chinese characters on them, something apparently achieved by many years of cross-breeding. However, my subsequent research has concluded that there is no such thing and worse, nobody’s even bothered to doctor a jpeg of a normal goldfish in order to persuade me otherwise. I suppose will have to do it myself.

Having slept so much today I now can't sleep. I have been researching Pre-Raphaelite pictures and all sorts of useless nonsense. Now I will try and write something brilliant and then try going back to bed.

I begin to keep a blog

My not-quite-but-nearly brother-in-law suggested that I keep a blog. For some reason I have entitled it Diary of a Goldfish. This is because I have embarked on this on impulse and couldn’t think of anything better to put. Yes my friends, the first shattering revelation of this particular blog is that I am not in fact a goldfish. However, in case you have come across this site hoping for some goldfish related information I shall do my best to provide three exciting goldfish facts every Tuesday.

Goldfish Facts 1st February 2005

• The longest living captive goldfish, was won at a fairground in 1956 and passed peacefully to the next life in his tank in 1999, aged 43. His name was Tish. If you are wondering how a goldfish may have a less than peaceful death, I shall tell you a story about that later.
• A pregnant goldfish is called a twit. I don’t know why. In fact I can’t back this up at all but I read it somewhere on-line so it has at least a 28% chance of being correct when c = x (y - л²), at least according to my calculations.
• The most common name for goldfish is Jaws. Goldfish are renowned for their astute appreciation of irony, despite having very little intelligence and a famously poor memory. They don't remember the jokes, but by golly, they do have a great sense of humour.
  

Although I am not a goldfish I do have two black moor fish as pets - or captives, perhaps, as the elderly Tish was described as a captive, wasn't he? I think I prefer guests; they can come and go as they please as far as I'm concerned. Yes, guests, I'm happy with that.

Black moors are the ones that are the same size and shape as your common-or-garden goldfish, but they are black in colour and have goggly eyes which protrude either side of their heads. My particular piscine guests are called Klutz and Schmuck. To be perfectly honest, I am not sure which is which, but following their recent move to a lovely new three foot tank it is become evident that one is male and one is female and they seem to have worked out which is which between themselves, even if I remain confused.

My dinner is almost ready, but do come again soon to read the next exciting instalment. What will happen next? Will Klutz eat the fish food? Will Schmuck pick up a stone in his or her mouth and then spit it out again? Find out tomorrow in Diary of a Goldfish!!!