I have a goldfish that most people can't stand to see because he has a black tumor of some kind on his back.
Poor little Quasimodo.
But I love this goldfish. I once came home to find him gasping at the bottom of the tank.
I thought that his time had come. The tumour had got him, but no.
As I reached in to lift him up I saw the problem.
It isn't the first time I've saved a fish's life.
He - as many fish which love to eat do - had sucked on a pebble so hard that it got stuck in his mouth.
I kid you not!
I pried the pebble from his mouth with a little lever and let him be.
He floated for an hour in a corner and his side - I had been too late.
But he was soon on his friendly, happy way.
He doesn't grow as big as the other fish.
Nobody believes that I saved his life of course.
But it's the second time I've conducted this operation on a fish.
Today he seemed to be turning somersaults as he fed off the bottom and juggled his burden.
If a pebble doesn't get Quasi I'm afraid that the tumour will.
