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msssWell. I certainly never expected this obssession. Don't get me wrong, I love my pets, but the fish have always been Dad's thing, not mine. Until a couple of months ago, when the parental units went on holiday and left me with the fish and some brief instructions.
Fish are simple, right?
Ha.
Lost one fish within a week of Dad coming back. Not happy, but not really upset coz they weren't mine. For some reason, Dad didn't seem inclined to take back the cleaning duty.
Lost another one about a month later. Not happy at all. What was I doing wrong?
Started researching. Gah. Fish are complicated. It's not just chucking water in and leaving it. That's chemistry, that is. Complicated chemistry, with chlorine and chloramine and oxygen dilution and calculation of volumes. *shrug* Sure Dad must know what he was doing. No need to second guess him. Cleaned tank.
About a month later I met the cutest little fishy in a pet shop. Oh, so cute. Little and round and with shiny scales and the most gorgeous lovely long fins. Had to have him. Brought fish home and put him in lovely aquarium. So cute. The other two fish were quite large - 6 and 5 inches long - so the contast was hilarious. All good.
Then the troubles hit. Melanie had acquired a couple of little feeder goldfish and was keeping them in a little bowl. Having researched the issue, wasn't too impressed. Neither was Anders, her bf. The upshot being that we brought them over here and put them in our tank. BIG MISTAKE.
You see, feeder goldfish aren't treated all that well, being not all that valuable. So they carry all sorts of germs. Which promptly infected my fish.
Think nasty internal haemorrhaging and bloodshot fins and nasty nasty death for my lovely little fishy. Really not happy.
Boyfriend feels sorry, but doesn't understand crying fit.
The next morning, the two big ones presented with bloodshot fins. Crap. Not good. No medication for systemic bacterial infections. No quarantine tank. Large gutting of budget occurs. Acquire quarantine, new air pump, box filter, tubing, various forms of antibiotics, new dechlorinator and start haunting fish forums. First antibiotic doesn't work on red cap oranda, which is moved to second tank with tetracycline. Mum is not impressed when she finds out that her guest room is a fish hospital. Fish improves somewhat.
Water changes become daily.
Start haunting the local acquarium.
Develop reaction to tetracycline. Start going paranoid about catching nasty nodule creating invasive bacteria. Acquire gloves.
Learn about salt baths causing massive clearing out of fishy's digestive system and hence ammonia spikes the hard way. Do lots and lots of water changes. Twice daily. I don't do anything but work and change water. Going mad.
Boyfriend getting tired of this fish thing.
Fish improves. Mel all happy. Comes home one day and fish is on the bottoms. Gah. Ammonia zero, nitrite zero, pH 7.0, what is wrong with fish? Water change.
Hmm. Tetracycline overdose suggested. More water changes.
Oh, did I mention the peas? Fancy goldfish are prone to constipation. So everyday, feed peas. Deshelled, cooked peas broken into little pieces. Twice a day. With the water changes. And the water tests in the little chemistry set.
Gah.
Bloody hell. Why do I feel so responsible for things that are mine?
Fish are simple, right?
Ha.
Lost one fish within a week of Dad coming back. Not happy, but not really upset coz they weren't mine. For some reason, Dad didn't seem inclined to take back the cleaning duty.
Lost another one about a month later. Not happy at all. What was I doing wrong?
Started researching. Gah. Fish are complicated. It's not just chucking water in and leaving it. That's chemistry, that is. Complicated chemistry, with chlorine and chloramine and oxygen dilution and calculation of volumes. *shrug* Sure Dad must know what he was doing. No need to second guess him. Cleaned tank.
About a month later I met the cutest little fishy in a pet shop. Oh, so cute. Little and round and with shiny scales and the most gorgeous lovely long fins. Had to have him. Brought fish home and put him in lovely aquarium. So cute. The other two fish were quite large - 6 and 5 inches long - so the contast was hilarious. All good.
Then the troubles hit. Melanie had acquired a couple of little feeder goldfish and was keeping them in a little bowl. Having researched the issue, wasn't too impressed. Neither was Anders, her bf. The upshot being that we brought them over here and put them in our tank. BIG MISTAKE.
You see, feeder goldfish aren't treated all that well, being not all that valuable. So they carry all sorts of germs. Which promptly infected my fish.
Think nasty internal haemorrhaging and bloodshot fins and nasty nasty death for my lovely little fishy. Really not happy.
Boyfriend feels sorry, but doesn't understand crying fit.
The next morning, the two big ones presented with bloodshot fins. Crap. Not good. No medication for systemic bacterial infections. No quarantine tank. Large gutting of budget occurs. Acquire quarantine, new air pump, box filter, tubing, various forms of antibiotics, new dechlorinator and start haunting fish forums. First antibiotic doesn't work on red cap oranda, which is moved to second tank with tetracycline. Mum is not impressed when she finds out that her guest room is a fish hospital. Fish improves somewhat.
Water changes become daily.
Start haunting the local acquarium.
Develop reaction to tetracycline. Start going paranoid about catching nasty nodule creating invasive bacteria. Acquire gloves.
Learn about salt baths causing massive clearing out of fishy's digestive system and hence ammonia spikes the hard way. Do lots and lots of water changes. Twice daily. I don't do anything but work and change water. Going mad.
Boyfriend getting tired of this fish thing.
Fish improves. Mel all happy. Comes home one day and fish is on the bottoms. Gah. Ammonia zero, nitrite zero, pH 7.0, what is wrong with fish? Water change.
Hmm. Tetracycline overdose suggested. More water changes.
Oh, did I mention the peas? Fancy goldfish are prone to constipation. So everyday, feed peas. Deshelled, cooked peas broken into little pieces. Twice a day. With the water changes. And the water tests in the little chemistry set.
Gah.
Bloody hell. Why do I feel so responsible for things that are mine?
