Tiny Teacher

[SCarrington Smith]

Alena the goldfish is finally free. On a warm spring evening, as the sweet scent of magnolia drifted in through open windows, and a lone songbird indulged one last melody to end his day, Alena moved on. After living with the burden of a large tumor which had caused her to go blind, her battle was over. This tiny being taught us many lessons during the time we were fortunate to have her with us; for one, she taught us resilience and determination to live in spite of hardhip.

About a year after she came to live with us, we noticed a small bump forming on the right side of her head. The growth became larger as time passed, but Alena seemed unaffected by it – she ate well and loved to swim around the fresh plants and rocks we placed in her aquarium. Then, one day I saw her lying motionless inside a decorative pirate skull, and I assumed she had passed away. When I touched her to remove her from the skull, she squirmed, and my heart rejoiced. It was a short moment of happiness, however, for when I finally got her out from the skull she was stuck into, she was in terrible conditions – trying to break free, she had rubbed off most of her skin and tail, and one of her eyes was bleeding. We thought she was going to die that day, and we did all we could to keep her as comfortable as possible during her transition. To our surprise, Alena survived, and in no time at all her skin and tail were repaired. Unfortunately, the tumor was cut open while she tried to get out of the skull, and from that day on it started growing at greater speed.

Alena lost her sight from the one eye close to the tumor, but she seemed to be doing well otherwise. She lived several more years, apparently unaware of the disease that was slowly destroying her tiny body, but a few weeks ago she became quite lethargic and sat still over top of one of the plants in her aquarium for a few days. Feeling confident that she was losing her battle and was by now in distress, I researched humane ways to euthanize her, but before we could decide on anything, Alena surprised us again by perking back up and acting normal. We felt relieved, and we enjoyed watching her swim around and eat as if nothing had happened.

Sadly, this last period of wellbeing was short lived. A few days ago, Alena began showing signs of distress again, and she refused to eat. Last evening she lay on her side at the bottom of the aquarium, and her small body became still. We waited for a while to make sure she was gone, then we gently scooped her up in a bowl and took her to a pond near our house where we laid her to rest. For most of her life, Alena was trapped in a body that didn’t work well, and her adventures were limited by the enclosure she was living in; now she was free from pain, and she could swim forever in a large pond. We all stood around and said goodbye, as one of my sons gently lay her motionless body in the water. At first, everyone was a bit sad, but grief was quickly replaced with joy, as we embraced the concept that Alena is happier now, and she no longer hurts. We all sat around for a while and talked about her passing. The kids all understood that in cases such as this, death is a portal to better living, and if we love her we have to be relieved and happy for her. Goodbye Alena...swim on, little buddy, and thank you for the silent lessons we will cherish forever.

[Kind of Blue]

1. Truly Inspirational, SCS.

Alena reminds me so much of Dory in "Finding Nemo" - just keep on swimming.
Thank you!

[SCarrington Smith]

2. Thank you so much Kind of Blue!

She really was a remarkable little fish, and such a fighter! :-)

[northernlights]

3. I'm sorry for your loss, SCarrington

Godspeed to Alena, swimming in the big pond now. :bighug:

She reminds me of Hannah Finch, the last baby of Mr. and Mrs. Minnever, my zebra finches. My vet couldn't believe that Mrs. Minnever was still laying eggs at age 10. She would have been stunned to learn that at least one egg was viable and a couple months later, on Christmas Eve, Hannah Finch was hatched. Her mother abandoned Hannah, took up with one of her sons, and left Mr. Minnever to care for her himself, which he faithfully did. Hannah was disabled, with too-wide hips that made her unable to stand upright. One leg would point east and the other west. As she grew, she learned to brace her weaker leg against the side of the big cage and prop herself up with her strong leg. I set up a series of plastic nests and dishes with perches for her to move around the top of the cage. Still, I would find her on the bottom of the cage. Each evening, I'd get home from work and put her back in her nest for the night. Eventually, she was able to fly. She had a hard time with take-off, would suddenly zoom wildly up and bounce of the top of the cage before landing in the nest. Her legs got stronger, and she finally could perch without bracing her weaker leg. I used to let her out for exercise at night. She would fly around the living room, dive bombing Cody Carrottops. After about half an hour she would return to her home. She stayed in a smaller cage now, with her big brother as a companion.

Hannah wanted nothing more than to live an ordinary finch's life. She lived this way for 2 years, and then unfortunately, got "too" strong and healthy. On Good Friday morning, I found her looking sleepy-eyed and not good. She was sitting on an egg. On Easter Sunday, I found her dead in her nest, sitting on 2 eggs now, the new one half-sized. Laying eggs was just to much for her tiny body with its bad hips. But where birds usually will hide themselves when sick, she died doing what she wanted most in the world, caring for her eggs to the end.

[SCarrington Smith]

4. What a wonderful story, Northernlights :-)

Animal friends teach us a lot for sure. Hannah was a special bird and she lived a good life despite her disabilities. I can just imagine how her heart rejoiced when she was able to lay her eggs -- what a little trooper, and what an inspiration for us all! :-)

:applause:

[OneGrassRoot]

5. Bless Alena and Hannah Finch....

Thank you both for sharing each of their stories, and so eloquently.

{{{{{Alena}}}}}

{{{{{Hannah Finch}}}}}


:grouphug:

[FirstLight]

6. sweet little beings...

Transmigrating souls, all of them...and us... so wonderful when we can share lessons of love in the meantime...

blessings to you for your cherishing and sharing the stories of fish & finch... love to both their little souls - wherever they may be transiting to now :)
:hug: :cry:

[SCarrington Smith]

7. Thank you, First Light and OGR

Such sweet souls have surely moved to wonderful, boundless realities. :-)