I've Got The Pox.

There! That's got your attention!


I am somewhat of a valetudinarian and so thought I had contracted every disease going but I have a new one to add to my collection - carp pox!
Well, to be fair, it's not actually ME who has it, it's one of the fish in my pond - or rather it WAS one of the fish in my pond. It is no more.
I found him/she/it floating about yesterday, covered in jelly-like, white blisters, and looking about as alive as Llandudno on a Sunday night. After a brief period of mourning (four seconds) I realised that I had to find out the cause of death, and fast, or I could have an epidemic on my hands. A fishless pond is about as complete as single man without a right hand.
I put the little, golden (and white spotted) corpse in a bag and rushed it over to my local fish doctor for a post mortem. None was needed, as it turned out, because the moment I walked in clutching the fish the doc recognised the condition: "Ahaa! You've got carp pox, you have," he said.
People turned their heads to look at me, no doubt expecting to see someone with gills, fins and looking distinctly unwell, so I held up the bag in an effort to deflect attention as my face reddened.
Goldfish are members of the carp family, I believe, so it sounded like a believable diagnosis, but was it contagious? "Nah mate. It's a virus," said the doc. "Aren't viruses contagious?" I asked, knowing the answer full well. "Noooh, no, no - well, yes, but not in this case." "I am a tad confused," I not unreasonably countered. "It's like us having coldsores," said the doc. "Because it's a virus there is not a lot you can do about it but it shouldn't spread to the other fish. Here, take this, it is a water treatment and put it in when the temperature rises to ten degrees." I handed over the requisite amount of dosh and left, only realising as I reached the car park that if the disease was untreatable then why had he sold me and why had I bought a treatment?
That is typical of the fish doc. He could sell rubble to the Iraqis. Many's the time I have gone in there just to buy some fish food and come out with things like a bicyle for my tench (sorry ladies, according to the fish doc, you do need men), a holiday cottage in Wales for the newts and a rear axle for a 1972 Ford Capri not owned by any of the pondlife. My pond and its associated equipment is probably worth more than Pither Towers these days.
One of his favourite tricks is to sell you something you want in ever more expensive stages. I'll explain. I once went in for a treatment for pondweed. I found one and he sold it to me. It didn't work so I went back. "It didn't work," I said. "I thought not," he replied. "It never works. This is the newest liquid on the market, try that." I bought some and went away. It didn't work. I went back. "It didn't work either," I said. "I know. Hopeless, isn't it?" he said. "The reason is that no compound treatments work on pondweed. What you need is this electrolysing gizmo. The latest thing from Japan. It will work. Success guaranteed, 100 per cent. It's only £130." I handed over the last of my lifesavings and went away. It DID work. Success as per the guarantee. Thing is, he had the device in the shop the very first time I went in to buy a treatment but still got me to fork out on as much useless crap as possible before selling me what I really needed. There again, he never actually lied to me at any time, only by omission, I suppose. Bloody smart, see?
Anyway, carp pox and internationally acclaimed, high-pressure salesmen of fish requisites can go to Grantham.