P.H., Parasites and Paramedics

We had a 60-mile round-trip mercy mission yesterday afternoon to save the life of one of the goldfish that live in our pond. Very early on Tuesday morning, I noticed that one fish had come to the top of the pond, which was unusual in itself because they don’t usually become active until much later in the morning and then, they tend to appear in 2’s and 3’s, rather than alone. I noticed that the fish remained motionless in the same place for the rest of the day and, when I looked closer, it appeared to be listing slightly to one side and gasping.

I rang my stepfather, who has kept fish for years, and he advised me to keep an eye on the situation and said that he always tends to lose one or two of his fish at this time of year. Well that’s okay if you’re talking about ordinary fish but, since we bought these fish as tiny tiddlers and they’re now big handsome beasties of around 4-5 inches in length, we’re talking more about family members than creatures that live in our pond…

I wasn’t happy. I worried about that fish until I fell asleep. Then, next morning, I woke at 5.20 am, and got up to go take a look at the patient, fully expecting to see a small body floating on the top of the water (particularly since overnight temperatures of minus 5 degrees Celsius had been forecast). To my amazement, the fish was still alive, its condition unchanged.

As the day went on, I noticed that the fish’s gasping appeared to be getting worse and I was starting to feel really unhappy and uncomfortable. Was it in pain? Do fish feel pain? Were we allowing it to suffer unnecessarily? Should we just take it out of the pond, allow it to die and put it out of its misery? I just couldn’t find it within myself to make that decision, so I decided to ring the RSPCA (The Royal Society for Cruelty to Animals) and ask their advice. After all, they are the experts in this area and, if they told me that the fish was suffering and should be allowed to die, then so be it…

Well, the woman on the advice line was horrified at the thought of letting the fish die and made me feel like the cruellest person they had ever come into contact with, just for thinking about putting it out of its misery. However, the only suggestion she could come up with was to try ringing local garden centres that sold fish in the hope of finding someone who knew what they were talking about as far as fish ‘health’ was concerned… Which lead to our mission of mercy, with the fish in a bucket of pond water (essential for analysis) in the back of Chris’s van, and him trying to drive through rush hour traffic without sloshing the water – and the fish – out.

The fish doctor was very good. He tested the pond water and pronounced it to be healthy, if a little alkaline. Then he lifted the fish out of the bucket, gently scraped some implement along its scales and applied the scrapings to a slide which went under his microscope. After a long look through the eyepiece, he invited us to see for ourselves. The slide was teeming with transparent, worm-like creatures – parasites with an unpronounceable name but more commonly known as ‘body flukes’. He took down a book and proceeded to show us a picture of a body fluke, inviting us to read about them for ourselves. But the only thing I wanted to know about them was – were they curable? Can my fish (which he informed us was a female) be saved?

Well, apparently, the parasites are treatable. Whether the fish can be saved or not remains to be seen. We treated the pond water with the medication he gave us and she’s still alive this morning, bless her. I’ll keep you informed about her condition…