I attended a funeral for a fish.
Beloved as the fish was, it lasted a mere 8 days in the heart of studentville.
The owner has three other fish bought around the same time, and I suspect by the time this article is posted, almost all will be dead.
Sad as this tragic occurrence was, the funeral was naturally tinged with a few laughs. Scornfully we wondered, "How could a fish survive in this tragic environment when we ourselves are barely keeping afloat?"
Furthermore, you might assume that no animal, apart from the battle-hardened student, could survive the harsh Castle St climate.
Here you would be wrong.
Though my friend’s fish died, it did not die in vain. It serves as a salient reminder of the various other species of animal found lurking in the humble student flat.
Closely allied with the pet fish is the most prominent and infamous animal lurking around every corner, that being, the simple duck.
Yes, the flat duck is a well-documented species in studentville. Endlessly curious and always game for a laugh, not a day goes by where I don’t stare at one directly in the eyes as it tentatively climbs onto our driveway.
No one knows why these creatures have such a fondness for the student flat. Perhaps it is the Leith River which pushes them into our somewhat warm embrace, or perhaps the pigeons in the botanical gardens have shepherded them from their natural habitat.
Whatever it may be, the flat duck is here to stay, and I couldn’t be happier.
Keeping a slightly lower profile in studentville are the series of cats which haunt Leith St at night.
Mysterious creatures, the cats usually base themselves around the pottery barn, frightening lone students on late night wanderings.
On a night of true turmoil, I happened to stumble upon one of these cats and in my inebriated state saw a prophecy in the bright white eyes of the black cat that had stopped me in my tracks.
The ‘prophecy’ hasn’t eventuated yet but I’m sure it’ll get there soon.
Pundits have suggested that these cats originate in the ‘granny flats’ at the end of Leith and Castle where they likely have food and water to indulge in.
Despite being on the top floor of my flat, a rat has managed to stealthily climb onto the roof above my bed, keeping me in constant fear that it will one day fall through the roof while I sleep.
Reading W.H. Auden’s ‘Funeral Blues’ at my friend’s fish funeral, I couldn’t help but reflect on the fragility of life in this bizarre ecosystem.
Yet despite this fragility, life finds a way. The ducks and various other creatures of studentville have found a way to make it work despite all odds.
While my friend’s fish never did, it still had enough of a life to warrant a full funeral with both poetry and song.
In this sense I like to think that we weren’t really celebrating the fish who we had barely known but instead the amazing forms of life which thrive in our midst.
- Hugh Askerud is a politics and religious studies student at the University of Otago
