Ode To Clifford

It is with great sorrow that I must report the rather unexpected death of my darling Clifford. If I have not yet introduced you, my faithful reader, to Clifford, it is a bit too late. But for history's sake I'll start at the beginning.

It was my junior year of High School and I had just transferred to Souderton Area High School. I was the newbie and thus coming from 8 years of private schooling, I just did not fit it. To ease my loneliness and pain, I decided to get a pet of my very own. Of course there was the cat, Krukker, but he was not solely mine. Therefore I convinced my Mom to allow me to get some fish. I jumped in the car and headed to PetSmart in Montgomeryville. Upon my arrival I had determined not to leave the store empty handed, although I felt a little apprehensive at the thought of walking to the car with little water filled baggies in below freezing weather. Despite the weather I scoured the wall of fish tanks and decided on some goldfish, but these weren't just any goldfish. With long flowing fins and lumpy heads, they were called Lionheads.

And thus became our new family addition, Byron and Clifford, Byron being the larger of the 2. Swimming in their watery underworld I would gaze at them from my bedside. I had concluded that this was the best decision I had made and just like Mary, everywhere that Patti went the fish were sure to go. Bryon and Clifford survived numerous trips to Pennsylvania and back again to Southern. I only suffered my first loss the summer between my Freshman and Sophomore years. I awoke one morning to the precious floating carcass of Byron. Distraught and crying, I had Mom scoop him out of the tank and he was given a proper burial in the backyard. I soon recovered realizing that I still had Clifford and he was healthy and spry.

Clifford continued to travel with me between states. He never seemed to mind. He never complained. He even spent a few holidays at Thatcher Hall alone. Through it all, he cheered me with only minimal effort, which brings us to the present.

I had recently arrived home to TN from a wedding in South Carolina and immediately noticed something not quite right with Clifford. Now I am no veterinarian, nor do I claim to be one, let alone have even the slightest clue as to how the insides of a fish operate, but my nurse sense was telling me that something was really, really wrong. Clifford refused to eat, refused to move. No swimming to the top of the tank to greet me and nibble on some pellets. His color was distorted and faded. His spirit has faded as well. Silly as it seemed, I fetched my Bible and said a prayer for him to be healed. I kissed the side of the tank, turned his light off, and went to bed.

Next morning, still alive, but worse off than before. Now he was really not moving and barely breathing. I felt helpless and hopeless. What should I do? Then Mom suggested that I euthanize him and end his misery. The thought was disgusting and heart wrenching at the same time. How could I do such a thing? But the more I watched him the more I could see him suffer. And so I gathered together my supplies and his favorite coffee mug and scooped him up, for he would not even try to escape my capture of him. I slowly drained the water off his little body and waited for him to stop breathing. Suffocated with oxygen, he passed, and I cried like I had lost my best friend. With mug in hand I stumbled out to the grounds behind my apartment and dug a small hole with a teaspoon. I gently poured his remains into the hole and quickly recovered the site.

Thus I feel that it is only right to pay tribute to the creature who brought me so much joy and kept me company when at times I felt so alone. I can only hope that one day I might see him in Paradise. Laugh now, if you must, but remember your Creator and His care for even something as small as a goldfish.