I keep fish.

I keep them in a small tank. I had many at one time but now I only have three. This may be due to the size of the tank.

Their names are Gerry, Margolies & Fitz. Fitz vanishes. Much of the time you would only see two fish. Once I moved the ornaments around, removed the plants and even disturbed the stones at the bottom and I couldn’t find him. I had theorised that the cat took him. If so the cat would bring him back again. I couldn’t ever explain it, but then I never really tried.

I used to feed them live food; Very small pre-packaged and quick frozen embryonic molluscs. They would revive in the water and the fish could enjoy chasing them and eating them… Or so it claimed on the packaging. The goldfish showed little interest. Occasionally they would eat one of the little squirming cephalopods. Fitz I never saw eat anything. Perhaps he ate with the cat?

Through a combination of my overfeeding and the fishes general disinterest some of the almost microscopic squid would be left alive, neither to die of shock or from goldfish ingestion. They would hide in the murky corners of the tank and either starve or cannibalise each other. Those that did consume their lessers became stronger. Dominating the dark recesses of the tank and fighting with the new arrivals that I would tap into the tank from the little can I kept in the fridge.

If the goldfish family showed little interest to the little squid they showed even less to the ones that got the chance to grow and nurture. The bumpf on the side of the can claimed the nutrients in the embryos would help growth and strength in my aquatic pets. It certainly helped to strengthen and grow the embryos.

I went on holiday for a week leaving my brother to look after the fish. To make sure he fed them. Possibly he actually overfed them because when I returned the fish were confined to a murky corner of the tank while small multicoloured squid about the size of a shallot were bobbing around ion the water menacingly.

I used teabag tongs to grab them, one by one and dispatch them out of my bedroom window to the ground below which was in the patrol path of the cat who would hopefully take over the next stage of the operation. the last of the biggies was a large brown squid with a toughened hide that made it look even more like a tentacled onion than the others. This one seemed to have a spout in the end of it’s body and puffed out moisture as I tried to grip it with the teabag tongs. Either through the forceful gripping and squeezing of it’s body, or the light jets of water it was still spraying out it began to make squeaking noises. It was heavier than the others and landed with an audible ‘plop’ on the concrete below.


Life didn’t quite return to normal for the little fish. Fitz never returned possibly due to the stress caused by the squid. I discarded the remaining freeze-dried squid and took to feeding the fish some kind of organic flakes, they died some months later. I haven’t owned fish since.

I was told by the neighbours that my cat brought some twitching tentacled chitinous fishy thing into Mrs Reilly’s house and she had to be taken to hospital with breathing difficulties related to her angina.

Perhaps this is where Fitz is too?

Something to say?