Okay, this is an abnormal day for me. Usually I’m struggling to get on here once a day, and here I am for the second time today. (See previous post.) But I am having this little “come to Jesus” kind of moment that only you, my anonymous reader, can help me with. You see, I am apparently just as dumb as the next bimbo.
So, it goes like this. We started with a 10 gallon tank, a pleco, a mini school of tetras, the whole nine yards. That was in 2000. Time passed, fish grew, fish died, the kids stopped thinking the fish and the whole idea of fish ownership was interesting, yada yada yada. But here I am, the self-appointed leader of the free-fish-world and I just keep putting in the the fishy-flakes. A fish would die here or there, but it was pretty much a static little world.
Then the motor went out on our fancy schmancy filter doo-hickey and I figured that since I was down to a tetra (named Ancient for obvious reasons) and a plecostomus (named Bottom for also obvious reasons), I would just get this cute new tank that was $3 less than the freaking broken part. 5 gallons meant way less management for me. This is apparently not good logic. Well, it isn’t bad logic, but was the start of my pet-based intellectual slide.
All is well until I realize one day how big Bottom had gotten. We ended up “surrendering” him and ultimately got a wee cat fish and some Glo Fish, and we call it good. Except that the 2 little Glo Fish weren’t quite as hardy as they were supposed to be and we were left with Fatty (again, and obvious name choice) and a cat fish. So, the local pet chain was having a “5 for 5” sale and we decided that three Neons would be good – and maximum density.
I began calling Fatty “Fatty the Fiend” as our littlest Neons just kept disappearing, one by one. And since Fatty is so, well, fat, he seemed the likely culprit. But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe Fatty was just a really good fisher of fish-flakes.
Okay, that’s the whole back story. Fast forward to the now. I just went in to fish out the corpse of the remaining Neon. (I had started calling him Hardy Boy – I know, I’m damn witty.) And he was no where to be seen. No where. I start taking things out of the tank (this isn’t a long process as we really only have rocks in 3 sizes) and I can’t find him.
You know what that means. I open up the filter thingy and it looks horrific. Like something died in there. Well, maybe died and stayed in there. Like maybe 2 other little Neons.
I found his partial little corpse in the intake which was strangely missing part of its cover – kind of like him.
So now I have a grodey tank I need to deal with and 3 kids who will surely fall into emotional wrecks when they realize that there are no more swimming sea kittens in the house.