Dead Fish Don't Float

Jenny the Dragon is dead.

I knew she was on her way out this morning when I went to feed her and she didn't almost jump out of the tank at the flakes like usual. She just stayed in the bottom corner breathing heavily and listing a bit to one side. It did not look good.

Five hours later and she's in the same spot, lying on the rocks now completely horizontal. I haven't gone so far as to check vitals. I can tell from here she is no longer with us.

I debated whether to dispose of her before the kids got home or to let them mourn her loss and experience a proper goldfish burial. We're going with the latter. I wonder if candles are necessary?

We have had a couple of fish kick off in the past, but those were unusual circumstances. Suffice it to say, I don't have the best of luck with Bettas. The first Betta was Heckle, he took a flying leap into the garbage disposal the summer that my X left. I could hear him flopping around in there but I couldn't reach for him lest I shred him against something sharp. I was left sobbing on the kitchen floor overcome with grief as I heard him struggling in the sink. In hindsight, I suspect my devastation had little to do with the fish at the time. The next Betta was Jeckle. Jeckle was a lazy fish. I was constantly tapping the bowl to make sure he was alive. One day, he just wasn't. Easily replaced though...the kids still have no idea they're caring for Jeckle Part Deux.

Jenny is a different story. She's a hyper Lionhead goldfish who measures more than five inches long and looks more like a miniature Koi than your garden variety, easily replaceable, won-it-at-the-school-carnival goldfish. There's no getting around this and I am not looking forward to it.