On February 10th, 2018, I lost the first pet that had been truly, and completely mine. My betta fish, Roger, passed away while I was home that weekend.
I remember my reasoning for getting him in the first place. I wanted something to care for that was dependent on me. I thought it would help with my mental health that was rapidly declining first semester of last year. On September 16, 2016, having done a lot of research on which kind of fish to get, my friend Sabrina and I went to a pet store, only to find out that particular store did not sell live animals. She had to go to a family thing, so my other friend, Mallika and I went to a different pet store. We spent a good long while looking at different fish, and deciding which would be the perfect one. We decided on this beautiful royal blue/teal male, with red at the end of his fins. He looked like a Cubs fan, which was great as I was a hardcore bandwagoner at the time.
My little friend, Roger, made me laugh and smile almost every day. He would always come and say hello to me, and he would sassily ignore me if I didn't IMMEDIATELY say hello to him. I never knew that betta fish could have such strong personalities, but Roger got me through a lot. He brought a smile to my face through tears, more than once, while I suffered through a depressive episode. When dealing with my TA harassing me, he kept me out of my own head.
When I brought him home for the summer, I was nervous, becuase I was going to Rome, and my dad, who had never taken care of a fish before, was in charge of keeping him alive. I left detailed instructions on what to do, and hoped for the best.
Upon my return home, Roger was thriving. My dad, and my brother, had grown to love him, just as I had. In fact, my brother loved him a little too much, and Roger was almost always constipated when Stuart came home, because Stu would overfeed him.
When I brought him back to school, I was unsure of where to put his tank. Not knowing any better, I put him on the windowsill, so the sun could heat his water, and so he could have a more natural light cycle. Little did I know that sunlight actually promotes disease in betta fish. No one had told me, not one internet source had said.
What I believed to be fin rot took hold of his dorsal fin, and by the beginning of October, the entire fin was near destroyed. I began treating him with Bettafix, which is marketed as a fin rot cure.
It wasn't until Thanksgiving that I realized Bettafix doesn't kill the bacteria, it just promotes fin regrowth. So I switched over to an intensive aquarium salt treatment. Roger seemed to get better.
I did this until Christmas, and then let him rest a while. When I went to restart the treatment, the salt didn't seem to do anything, so I bought a fungal cure, which helped a little.
When I was away on a retreat, my little guy's infection made it hard for him to stay upright. It was growing on one side of his body, and he was having a hard time balancing. This was January 21st, 2018.
He kept his big Roger personality until February 8th. That day, he seemed to slip away. He became lethargic. He wasn't eating. I decided I would buy a heater (as the previous one had broken) to see if that would work, but if he wasn't Roger again by Valentine's Day, I'd let him go peacefully.
I'm not sure why, or when, or how, but while I was home, he passed away. I came back on February 11th, and when I went to install his heater, I noticed that he most certainly was not Roger anymore. The color was gone from his body. His eyes had glazed over. My little buddy was gone.
I held him in my hand, and I cried. I cried for missing him, I cried for not being there, I cried for all I could've done. I called my upstairs neighbor to come and help me. I'm glad she came, because I likely would've sat, holding him in my hands, crying, for hours.
We wrapped in a paper towel, and we said goodbye. I felt I had failed him. I was glad he wouldn't be in pain anymore.
The next morning, I went into a campus ministry office and said "You don't have to say or do anything, but can I sit, and if I cry, I cry," and I was given space to grieve and miss him. Not as a fish, but as a beloved pet and friend.
He wasn't just some fish that I got to have fun with for a few weeks. I really wanted to keep him around for a long time. I know that 1.5 years is pretty good for a fish in a college dorm, but I still wonder what more I could've done.
My campus minister pressed the idea that he was a pet, just as much as a dog or cat. She told me to grieve how I needed to grieve. She told me to remember what he did for me. And she told me not to blame myself.
I've had a lot of people not really understand why I'm so upset about losing him. I can tell they think it's silly to be upset about a fish. But he was my little guy, my little buddy.
I'm not sure when or if I'll get another little buddy. But for now, I'm dealing with living with him as a memory. If I do get another fish, I know that Roger will be joining us on the journey.
I love you little buddy. Have fun swimming with Nemo and Dory. (And Sashimi, my friend's little fishy who passed on the same day as Roger.)
