It was early Thursday evening and Gizmo (my cat for those not in the know) was still out. I like him to be in before dark otherwise he will stay out all night. My husband was going out but went to look for Gizmo once more before locking up the back door.
He came in a few minutes later with Gizmo. Gizmo had been found with a fish on the pathway. The fish was still alive. My husband put the fish into the nearest container which contained rainwater, informed me about what had happened and then went out. By this time it was quite dark outside.
The next morning I prepared myself to find a dead fish floating on the water. To my surprise the fish was very much alive. I put some water into a bucket and poured the fish along with the rainwater into it. Later that day my son and I went out in search of fish food.
I have no idea where the fish came from. We do not have a pond and neither do our closest neighbours. If Gizmo had taken the fish from a pond (which is probably the case) how did he get it back to our garden without harming it? How could the fish have survived so long out of water? Why didn't it die of shock?
I have had such a dilemma. Do I knock on the doors in the neighbourhood asking if any one has lost a fish?!!! What if they accuse Gizmo of stealing more than one? What if they think I am a crazy woman?!!! I decided against this cause of action.
So it seems the fish is here to stay. I will have to find a permanent solution for its habitat as it cannot stay in a tin bucket. So there it is. I have gained a fish. It is as though it fell from the sky. I feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility for its welfare. My son has named it Albert. Albert the fish. The name makes as much sense as the method in which it arrived.