The Lonely Cardassian

I used to say to Little Watson the cat, “Let’s go feed the fish,” and we’d go to Garak’s goldfish tank in the bathroom, where I’d open the drawer and get out the bottle of fish food. Little Watson always got some tiny pellets of the stuff, so he was motivated. Sometimes when I passed along the hallway near the bathroom, he’d step out in front of me and squeak, which I presume meant “Hey, let’s go feed the fish.”

When this small feeder goldfish came into the household many years ago, our then sixth-grade daughter named him after the Star Trek Deep Space Nine character, Elim Garak– Cardassian tailor and consummate spy. General Martok and Garak were her heart-throbs, which, if you remember the characters, is very interesting.

Over the years the tiny orange fish grew, and after our daughter entered college, leaving Garak in our care, we googled how long feeder goldfish were supposed to live. Apparently five to ten years is reasonable, so we gave him a fair-sized tank, occasionally dropping in aquarium greens and some small objects to nose about, and he would clop at the surface if he felt food was overdue, or even splash his tail. He seemed to get excited when the cats visited, dashing about in a fashion that I believe was not simple stress but a type of interest. My husband built a sturdy vented wooden top for the tank, so Garak lived in safety. We tried every so often to give him a goldfish companion, but every one died, so we gave that effort up. The biggest traumas were the changing out of his tank at intervals, scraping the glass, replacing the water with purified water, and rinsing the gravel. None of us looked forward to these efforts.

Our daughter entered graduate school, but she didn’t take him with her. On her visits, we discussed how he was turning white, the bright orange red of his young days retreating up, lingering only as splotches along his back. This Thanksgiving, we put his age at approximately seventeen. We joked about ‘his’ book, A Stitch In Time, an excellent Star Trek/Deep Space Nine novel written by the actor, Andrew Robinson, who played Garak in the series. Apparently it was not only the two of us who couldn’t forget the lonely Cardassian.

Three days ago when I fed him he did a small unusual thing. He slapped his tail on the surface of the water after I dropped the pellets in, and I remarked to my husband that Garak really did seem to have ideas he wanted to communicate. Perhaps even ‘Thank you.’

“Not to me,” my husband said. “He seems to recognize you.”

“Maybe I wear brighter colors,” I said. “I feel appreciated.”

Next morning, he lay quite dead upon the gravel in his tank, apparently relaxed, silent as ever. Always as good at keeping his secrets as Elim Garak, but never so chatty as that erudite tailor.

 I didn’t believe it. I left him there, checking in at intervals, but not a twitch. Finally I netted him out and there was no question but our Garak was no more. I buried him in rose petals under the kumquat, with a couple of violets– Elim would approve.

Watson will miss him. So will I.

(These photos were taken in 2019 by a friend of ours, who cat-sat and fish-sat for us frequently over the years, C. Palmstrom, who retains all rights.)