The Goldfish Who Changed the World

It was a dark and stormy night, and in a particular house on Maple Street, there lived a tiny little goldfish named Herman.

Herman was home alone while his owners were at a special fundraising event for athlete’s foot. As with any other night, or day, for that matter, Herman swam around in circles in his tiny little goldfish bowl, occasionally blowing bubbles for entertainment.

 

Outside his bowl, and outside his window, the storm was churning up some brilliantly bright lightning, and some thunderous thunder. The noises scared little Herman, but only because fish don’t have a scientific explanation for thunder, and they assume it’s the end of the world every time they hear it. Luckily for Herman, his fear doesn’t last long since his short-term memory only lasts 3 seconds, and by the time another clap of thunder occurs, he’s forgotten everything he knows, including that fact that he’s just a little goldfish.

As everyone knows, a person, or a goldfish – if they had counting abilities – can calculate the distance of a lightning strike by counting one one thousand, two one thousand between the flash of the lightning, and the roar of the thunder. If Herman was paying attention, instead of swimming in dizzying circles in his bowl, he may well have recognized a pattern occurring, a pattern that would surely have scared the wits out him, and perhaps killed him, eliminating the need for the rest of the story. It turns out that every strike of lightning was triggering a violent thunderous response in increasingly shorter intervals, and it was happening like clockwork, until the inevitable happened.

Without much notice, and without Herman remembering anything except the past 3 seconds, a bright flash lit up the sky, perfectly synchronized with a loud boom, and the crashing sound of a breaking window. Herman had just enough time to blow one last bubble before the lightning struck him, and unfortunately, electrocuted him.

It would be only be a truly sad tale, if that was the end of the story, but believe me, it’s just the beginning.

Lying on the floor, under the broken glass from the window, and his fishbowl, Herman opened his eyes. He immediately realized that things seemed different.

First of all, he was no longer perched up on a table viewing the world outside his fishbowl; he was actually outside his fishbowl, looking up at the table that he once called home.

Second, the fact that he remembered what life was like in the fishbowl was a new experience, since he had been on the floor for a whole 5 minutes before regaining consciousness, and the only memories he was accustomed to were those that happened in the past 3 seconds.

Third, and most importantly, Herman was no longer a tiny little goldfish who swam around in circles all day; the lightning strike had done something strange to him.  He tried to roll over, but was stopped by four appendages protruding from his body. He was confused by this, but somehow knew that he could use these things to stand up; something he had never done in his short life, but now had an instinct to do so.

After wobbling for a bit, Herman was able to control the newly found legs he had been given, and started walking around the house on Maple Street. He was amazed at the size of the world around him, and the dryness of it all.

He eventually found his way to the foyer, or entry hall, for those with less pretentiousness. Here, he found a mirror, and was able to glance at himself for the first time. It took him a minute to figure out how a mirror worked, since goldfish don’t generally have the opportunity to see their own reflections while swimming in circles all day and night. Once he figured out that the figure looking back from the mirror was, in fact, himself; he had to do a double take, and gave out a little chuckle at the irony, another new sensation. What was looking back at him was the face of his mortal enemy, the creature he was born to fear, and for good reason. He was looking at a cat.

Just about at that moment, Herman heard footsteps coming up the front walkway of the house on Maple Street. He sat in a ready position, and when the door opened, his instincts took over, and he ran out of the house, under the faces of his owners, who looked shocked to see a cat they had never seen running by them with lightning speed.

The owners were shocked further when they entered the living room, and saw a broken window, and Herman’s goldfish bowl toppled onto the floor, broken into a thousand jagged pieces of glass. They mourned the loss of their tiny little goldfish, Herman, for a brief moment, cleaned up the glass, and went about their normal human business, never the wiser as to what really happened.

Once Herman was outside, somewhere he had never been, he felt conflicted as to how to proceed with this new life. He thought to himself that there must be a reason this happened to him.

Then, after walking along fence tops, and occasionally digging through garbage cans, it finally hit him. He had been chosen. Chosen to end the struggle between goldfish and cats. He pondered that he must be the only creature who could truly understand the plight of both sides of the battle, and now he was mandated to bring peace to the long running conflict. He imagined himself speaking to groups of cats, and goldfish alike, to help convince them that their ways of barbarianism was only hurting both of their species. He would organize groups of peacekeepers to assure that the truce he created was always intact. He believed that was his new mission in life, and he was going to make the first step the following morning, once he found a place to rest, and so he did.

Over the course of the next 9 months, Herman organized a grassroots effort among cats, and goldfish, alike. He spread his message to all those who would listen to him. If you were within earshot of one of his speeches, you would be mesmerized by the charisma Herman had; he was able to relate to all those involved on both sides of the war, and make them see the benefits of living in peace. However, if you were a human, you would just hear a bunch of incessant meowing, and most likely try to shoo Herman, and the cats away, so you could go back to focusing on yourself.

Herman was quite successful in his campaign. He was able to build a truce into the inter-species natural by-laws, and his dream of cats and goldfish getting along was becoming a reality, a reality that could one day change the course of nature. Herman had a dream.

What Herman didn’t realize was that he had opposition. An opposition that was starting it’s own movement to maintain what they considered to be the natural order of things. The natural order being that goldfish were deathly afraid of cats, and cats ate goldfish whenever given the opportunity. They claimed that this was how it always was, so who was Herman to change things. They didn’t even believe that he was ever really a goldfish, and that there must have been hallucinogens in his catnip when he was a child. They were strong, and they were everywhere, lurking in the shadows of Herman’s many speeches. Not speaking, but listening, waiting, and plotting their anti-campaign.

Herman went about his business, but would occasionally hear rumors of an underground group ready to quell the message of peace. This did not stop Herman from proceeding, and due to his unique position, and inherent goldfish nature, he kept “swimming in circles.” He had been able to organize what would be the biggest speech of his life at a ranch just north of Los Angeles, where a slightly unbalanced woman kept over one hundred cats on her property. The cats were happy to have Herman speaking, since he was already considered a celebrity, and becoming knows as the cat who could change the world.

So, the speech began, and Herman had captured the audience in the first few sentences, speaking of life, and liberty, and the pursuit of balls of yarn. The cats ate it up. Herman had broken through, when suddenly from the back of the crowd, one little cat pulled out a high powered rifle, and with amazing accuracy was able to assassinate Herman with the pull of the trigger. The crowd went crazy, cats were running around as if there were a hundred laser pointers randomly moving all over the the ground. Herman had been killed.

When the lone gunman was able to approach the podium where Herman had been giving his speech, he looked down to see what kind of damage he had done. What he found would shock, and bewilder him for years to come. He could not find Herman, the cat, but only a tiny little goldfish, and his own broken heart.

This event caused the assassin to immediately change his views, and he became a supporter of the cause, eventually going on to preach Herman’s message around the world. And, in a final gesture, the assassin would create a religion in honor of Herman, a religion that every cat alive today follows, except those who still insist on eating goldfish.