Jul. 15: Pain and suffering

A couple weeks ago I posed a question about what to do with three goldfish that we no longer wanted. I haven’t reported on the outcome of that decision, and I probably should, lest you think the worst of me. First,  let me say that I appreciate the advice you offered. Lovely Lori H and her family adopted one of our goldfish, and he seems happy in his new home, though perhaps a bit blinded by the light streaming through their tank’s clear walls.

As for the other two fish, they’re still in our even greener aquarium. We’re still feeding them every day. We still have not made a decision about their future. Neither of us feel good about flushing them live, but we don’t like the idea of buying a new tank, either, which is the only way we can keep them for the long term. Anyone want two very cute and lively goldfish? One is all orange and the other is white. Lovely Lori H took the sexy black mohawked fishie.

I bring up this “dilemma” topic again, not because I felt the need to follow up; I am not nearly that conscientious. Rather, we were faced with a similar ethical emergency this evening and unsure of how it should best be handled. Here it is:

The cat brought home a little bird tonight. It was her second one; the first one was a few weeks ago and we distracted her and took it away immediately. Tonight’s bird, though, was still alive. Not just alive, but suffering—it was bloody and struggling to breathe—and Millie wasn’t done playing with it yet. She was upset when I carried her into the other room while Vic scooped the bird into a bag, and for the past hour has been walking around crying because she can’t find her peeping toy. She doesn’t seem to suspect us, though—she’s not crying AT us, but NEAR us.

In such a situation, what is the most humane thing to do with the bird? If it’s still alive but can’t be made well again, do we put it out of its misery? And if that’s what we chose to do, how exactly would that best be done? A shoe? A BB gun? The cat?

Y’know that very, very funny Merv Griffin episode of Seinfeld, when George’s girlfriend is so horrified because he runs over a squirrel? I always thought it was silly that they took the squirrel to the vet in the first place, but now, I’m not so sure it’s such a far-fetched option.

MIRANDA: Doctor, is the squirrel going to live?

DOCTOR: There’s been massive trauma. We could, of course, try to save him but it would be costly, difficult, and we’d have to send away for some special really tiny instruments.

GEORGE: Well, uh, are there any other options?

DOCTOR: We could put him to sleep.

GEORGE: What might that cost?

DOCTOR: Well, it’s by the pound. So ... about 80 cents.

GEORGE: Well? <Miranda hits George> I was just – I’m curious, that’s all. We, uh, we’d like you to do everything possible.

DOCTOR: He, um, he’s not going to be the same, you know?

GEORGE: Yeah. Yeah. I know.

Bringing the squirrel home and carrying it around in a Baby Bjorn, now THAT was a little far-fetched.

My sister’s reading this right now, undoubtedly waiting for me to bring up her personal experience with putting animals out of their misery. Normally I would not disappoint, Kath, but I think everyone’s heard the story because somehow—no thanks to me, I’m quite sure—this comes up at every party. In other words, when Kathy’s on the guest list, the critter-killer stories come up and the pants go down. She’s lucky I love her, that seester o’ mine.

Suggestions on the animal stuff are welcome in a comment.