Fin?

From woodlice to ginger ninja cats, we are a family and business with familiars. One of these furry companions is the very elderly Percy (shown below). At 119 in human years he's as old enough to have been on the local news at least once. Rescued as a pup, he's now the ancient wise-man of the pet hierarchy. Sometimes grumpy, mostly asleep, always emitting foul old sock and wee smells and often forgetting where he has left his glasses, Percy is the geriatric force to be respected.

Wisdom says that having pets teaches children lessons about life, death and caring. When several weeks ago the youngest of our two goldfish seemed to be on his last gills, I as an adult gained a new perspective on these subjects.

The fish was so poorly, he swam sideways, he gasped. I fed him peas which is supposed to help with fish constipation, in response, he floated upside-down. I conditioned him with Fish Conditioner - he looked worse. Every time I thought the end had come and braced myself with a slotted spoon to help him into his fully-lined wooden Turkish Delight box coffin, he perked up. This went on for days. I cried, he floated more and looked very sad. In these days we renamed him, he had always been 'Boring Fish', he was always dull, but now it seemed cruel so when we remembered, he became 'Hopeful Fish'.

During the few weeks that Boring was poorly all family members had ideas about how to help. Youngest son suggested "feed him to the cat, it's recycling", my farmer-dad suggested "knock it on the head" - with what? The fish's head was all of an inch wide. I just wanted to get him out and shout "Get better Boring...". We came to no conclusions; we weren't keeping him alive for our pleasure; he couldn't tell us how he felt, it was quite a strain.

Boring continued to trick us into thinking he was dead then he would miraculously loop the right-way-round loop. Until one morning, as I made tea, I noticed he had expired.

As a family we have had many discussions - never gloomy - about how it would be very kind if humans had an 'off' button. When life is just too tedious, or at a previously agreed moment the button could be used. We have talked about natural burial, about pretty shrouds made of sheep wool (no good for me - makes me itch!). About whether if you scatter ashes bits of the person are trying to find other bits as they float around the countryside...

All this candid grown-up, frank conversation has clearly been no use at all. I now worry about my previously steely nerves and can see I will have to re-open talks with my elders. If I can't flush a half-dead fish how am I ever going to get on the plane to Switzerland?