In 2000, a Danish artist displayed ten operational blenders each containing a live goldfish in a gallery. During the exhibition visitors switched two of the blenders on. A legal battle ensued between the gallery and animal rights groups but apparently fish don’t have feelings.

I’ve never particularly been a “goldfish person”. I love having pets but have always found more satisfaction with furry ones that shower me in affection. Apparently I know as little about fish as the law courts do. According to many owners goldfish have personality in abundance and scientists have concluded that they are definitely able to experience pain.

Then there’s my friend Dan’s goldfish, Fidel; he swam upside down and got visibly excited at the sight of food (his tail flapped which Dan interpreted to be a dance). When we came in drunk from late nights out we’d slump on her couch, listen to music, talk until we’d run out of things to say and find ourselves staring at Fidel’s tank waiting to be entertained. He rarely disappointed.

Two weeks ago I got a message from Dan saying that Fidel had finally given up the battle (with ongoing fish bladder problems). Her work colleagues laughed when she told them how gutted she was; unfair when you think that a dead cat can qualify for a half-day of compassionate leave, or at least a bit of sympathy and a cup of tea. I felt sad for Dan, sad for Fidel and sad at the fact that the world at large didn’t mark the passing of goldfish with any gravitas. Then, after discovering that the poet Virgil (70BC-19BC) staged a lavish funeral for his pet housefly, my mind was made up and Fidel got a commemorative plaque. Inspired I started work on a range of fish memorials.

From the simplest casket made from a matchbox to a more traditional tombstone (albeit in miniature), the possibilities for fish burial are endless. I have since discovered entire blogs dedicated to eulogies of once loved goldfish . Maybe I’ll send a link to that Danish artist and post him one of my little memorials too.