Pipsqueak Littlefish, the band manager, passed away sometime during the night.
I purchased Pipsqueak when his body was the size of a dime, the smallest angelfish sold. In my opinion, dime-sized angels are too small to be moved from their infant tank and the mortality rate among them is extremely high. The angels I have raised don't leave their original habitat until their bodies are well over the size of a quarter.
I named him Pipsqueak Littlefish and proclaimed him the Band Manager. I already had Mick Fleetfish, Stevie Fishnick, Lindsay Buckingfish, and John and Christy McFish. He had marks over his eyes that made him look like a worried little accountant.
I felt sorry for Pipsqueak. One of his ventril fins was bent and it eventually fell off. His fins were transculent and his body was more the size of a football than the elegant shape of the best angels. When I brought him home, I didn't think he would live.
But Pipsqueak surprised me. Not only did he live but he flourished. He was adept at hiding when he was young and resourceful as he grew larger.
He grew to be ten inches tall and his body was the largest of any angel I'd ever had - about the size of my palm.
I don't know why Pipsqueak passed away. He showed no sign of fin damage or discoloration, no puffy white cotton or any external damage. But he stopped eating a few days ago and seemed to have labored breathing. Adding vitamins to the water, which normally helps boost the immune system naturally to aid in healing, didn't work.
Sadly, I found him nose-to-the-gravel this morning.
May he rest in peace.