Frederick--Post #6

When I woke up Sunday morning, my 6-year-old goldfish, Frederick was dead. He had been perfectly fine the previous day, so I have to assume it was just old age. I'm sad about it, but he had a long, full life.

He has lived in four different places in three different quadrants of town, outlived two other fish, encountered five cats, and liked listening to Falco. My boyfriend would do impressions of Frederick speaking with a German accent, because obviously, Frederick was German (or possibly Austrian like Falco). I don't have any particularly good photos of him because it's kind of difficult to take pictures of a goldfish, but he was always so cute swimming around.

I buried him the backyard here at the McConachie's house in SW Portland, next to some flowers and vegetables I planted. His little funeral was attended by Derek and me.

Goodbye Frederick.