The Koi

Postales del Paraíso

The Koi

We’ve talked several times about getting rid of the koi while we’re not here because of the cost of keeping the fountain and the water circulation going 24 hours and the cost of feeding and maintenance, so a few days ago I bought some rubber gloves and started pulling the weeds out of the koi swamp to see if I could find any signs of life. 

The property manager thought that the fish had made for several memorable evenings of exotic dining for the neighborhood cats or Coatamundi while we were gone, but I wanted to be sure. I pulled out two lawn-size plastic bags full of the aeration fern, but no sign of any fish. In the ensuing days I’ve monitored the pond carefully: no signs of life. I dropped koi food pellets onto the surface to see if I could entice any movement. Nothing.

So today I began the laborious task of tearing out the rest of the vegetation and draining the swamp, except of course there is no drain, so bucketful by bucketful I haul the water to the other side of the property and dump it in the courtyard drain. About an hour later, with the pond about 20% less full than when I started, I go back for another bucket load and there are four koi darting back and forth in the middle of the pond!

So my first thought is if I can catch the little buggers, I’ll throw them over the wall at my gas-stealing neighbors, or better yet I’ll wrap them in newspaper and have them delivered to my neighbor’s front door like a Mexican Godfather message to the Corleone Family: “Keep stealing my gas and you’ll sleep with the fishes!” (very nice, very cute, very expensive gold and saffron colored fishes, but fishes none-the-less)

But instead I walk down through the village to the Lake Chapala Society (the elderly ex-pat’s club) and put a large sign on the bulletin board: FREE KOI !!! The sign at first reminds me of a 1970’s poster for Bobby Seale or Angela Davis, but I figure they’ll get the point.

I turn to leave and I hear a voice calling from the office door. “Excuse me sir, I need to see your membership card!” I turn around to find an elderly firebrand of a woman with more wrinkles than a dried poblano chili and a voice that has never left the Lower East side wagging her finger as if admonishing a kindergarten delinquent.

Apparently in order to post to their bulletin board you need to be a member of the Lake Chapala Society, so this becomes one of those “Shoot me, now... please” kind of moments. Joining the LCS is like knowingly and willingly signing up for an AARP card; acknowledge here and now that youth and vigor are a thing of the past and sign up now for dementia deferment classes, bingo, and monthly melanoma screening. 

So despite the fact that there’s only two months left in the year they want $200 pesos for the membership fee for the balance of 2012. So against my better judgment and in the best interest of the fish, I cough up the $16.00 dollars, have my photo taken and I am presented with my official Lake Chapala Society membership card. I briefly think about changing the sign to read “SAVE THE KOI”, but given the location of the sign I think allusions to the Black Panthers more appropriate than Jane Fonda.

On the way home I contemplate whether the $16.00 will bring me more piece of mind knowing that the fish may soon have a new home, or whether I’d truly have a better night’s sleep if I knew the neighbors would be too frightened by the ominous delivery of the newspaper wrapped fish, to steal any more gas from me. So I console myself with the knowledge that with my new membership I have the additional benefit of borrowing from the vast collection at the LCS Film Library of titles like “ How To Take Your Own Blood Pressure”, “The Home Prostate Cancer Check-up”, and “Providing Full Time Care For Your Loved One As You Age”.

Some things are simply priceless.