Saturday, November 11, 2006

Something Fishy

I used to love fairs when I was a child. Fairs, playgrounds, the pet shop, zoos, four of my favourite places: and all ones that aroused vague disapproval in my parents.

I think they thought that fairs were full of crooks who were trying to rip you off. Which they may well have been, but I loved the atmosphere and the buzz of them - and, as a matter of fact, I still do. The rides they thought were full of danger - and I expect they were, but I loved them too, apart from the helter-skelter which I thought was terrifying.

My mother didn't like zoos, though I'm still not quite sure why - perhaps because the animals were frequently kept in less-than-ideal conditions and perhaps the same applied to pet shops. Perhaps she didn't feel up to the cries of "Mum, can I have a hamster/mouse/rat/parakeet/turtle/snake?" that would ensue after any visit to the pet shop.

Playgrounds, of course, were lethal in those days, with huge slides from which you could plummet to death by concrete at any moment. But I loved them.

So one of my lasting childhood memories is of pestering my parents to take me to any of the above, and of them saying sorry, dear, not today, perhaps another time. Which I always thought was odd: because they were clearly Adoring Parents. Children know these things - they know how loved they are, and I was loved. So, I reasoned - though never said so - if you love me so much, why can't we go to the playground then? And, of course, we did go to all these places occasionally - just never often enough for me!

Of course, their memories are probably of always having to go to playgrounds/zoos/the pet shop/fairs when they would much rather have been somewhere else.

The best thing about the fair was the chance to win a goldfish. The drama of the fair and my love of all animals combined! Fantastic!

Quite often I would return home with some poor half-dead goldfish which had been living in a polythene bag for far longer than was good for it. I prided myself on my ability to revive these poor creatures and they would lead a long and - I hope - happy life in a tank.

But I thought all that had gone. It's been years since I saw goldfish in polythene bags, and a good thing too. More enlightened times. You can't give animals away as prizes - it's cruel, and as a matter of fact it's cruel to keep a goldfish in a polythene bag for any time at all.

And then on Thursday I was in Leeds city centre and they were setting up a fair and look! Goldfish in polythene bags.


I had to pretend I was taking lots of photos in other directions first, in case the man in charge of the stall came and beat me up.

I don't like cruelty of any kind ever. I know that, in comparison with the terrible cruelty that goes on in the world, goldfish in polythene bags doesn't rank high on the scale. But I still think it's wrong. We shouldn't be accepting or casual about any kind of cruelty, on no matter how small a scale. Small, casual cruelties can make bigger ones seem much more acceptable.

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