I have always had fond memories of my first goldfish, Joe and Millie – they were named after my great uncle and aunt on my grandmother’s side. My grandfather had “caught” them along with hundreds (???) of other fish from the golf pond. A water hazard I am sure. It was certainly a hazard for the fish the day they decided to dredge the pond and the fish were just flopping around on the ground – definitely fish out of water. The pond maintenance crew didn’t have a care in the world for these little gold buddies, they just started their work even when my grandfather and his friends were staring at them and thinking, hey it’s cool that you are collecting all of our lost golf balls, but the fish are dying here. So he said something.

No reaction.

“BUT THE FISH!!”

Still, no reaction, so my grandfather took action. He went to his van and grabbed his tool buckets – 5 gallon pails we have all come to be known as “Spackle Buckets” (or in our house, wine buckets) – and then emptied the tools and started scooping up fish and water.

When he brought them home, we happened to be there visiting. It was amazing to peer in and see the orange, gold and shimmering fish in those buckets. At least 5 buckets – full to the brim with pond water and fish. I don’t remember who all took them, but he found homes for each one of these beautiful, full grown, pond goldfish.

We were able to pick two. As you know, we named them Joe and Millie. They lived with us for years until they were too big for our 30 gallon fish tank. We set them free at one of my dad’s clients who had a pond in their front yard. I was sad to see them go back into the “wild” but could go visit whenever my dad did work at their house.

I remember that day so vividly; how proud my mom was that her dad could not just stand there, enjoying his golf game and letting those fish die for no reason.

~ Dawn aka Hat Girl