I asked whether fish get tired of their surroundings. J says fishy memories are so bad that they are always amazed at all the new places to explore. If that’s true, why do I hear rumors that Jacques has a degree in cartography?
Here are the promised photos:
If you look closely, you can see a green line protruding from Kingsley’s posterior end. 1/2 disintegrated moss ball & green poop = vegetarian fish.
Content fishies = happy owners 🙂
Girlfriend broke up.
When we woke this morning, she was searching intently (headfirst) for something in the floor. Maybe it was a toilet, so I threw her in ours, where she seemed to gain a bit of gusto; was she feigning for freedom?! (probably not, but it would’ve worked. Perhaps the long months without
her a lover have run her into the ground.) J tossed a spider in there too, and neither of them permitted me to utilize the facilities, even in the face – or rear – of near-critical urgency. As far as anyone (except the guppy and eight-legged fiend, I suppose) knows, they’re still in there. Could this be the world’s first spider-fish friendship? I’ve heard nothing brings you closer than drowning in the same toilet.
Yesterday, the tank welcomed Ziggy, a tiny black sharklike dude who feasts all day on scummy glass; Kingsley, a stealthy ebony Moor and potential usurper of Hamburglar’s throne (the ‘burg has gotten quite round and slothy as of late – corrupted by his voracious lust for power – can no leader go untainted?); and Elphie, an indigo beta and the new community bicycle. Although Kings is of a size to reckon with Hams, things seem to be going swimmingly – as J put so eloquently: “Hamburglar and Kingsley are good songs,” and by songs, she means friends.
Jacques yet lives despite the crushing weight of Hamburglar’s fat, oppressive fins. Sushi (or is it Sashimi?) seems to be growing bored of her current surroundings and dreams of breaking into interior design, but how will she afford trade school with no savings and no income?
Will Kingsley win the royal seat? Will the denizens of Fishtopia welcome their new negro overlord, or mutiny and beseech the powers that swim for the reinstatement of His Fishy Fatness? Will Sushi find her Zen paradise, or be forever denied Fishvana? Will Ziggs ever stop sucking, or will he get fatter than Hambo off of J’s lazy cleaning (i.e., lack thereof)?
Stay tuned for photographic chronicling and further blabberings concerning these epic events! Sing, o choirs of cacophany! Let them eat fishcakes!
Life’s been busy for us. Night classes tend to stimulate my voracious appetite via an unknown mechanism. I know I’m weird. Don’t ask.
In other fishy news, another one of our children decided to transition to a better life. Chris hypothesized that Boyfriend has died of a broken heart — prolonged separation from Girlfriend + the realization that the children weren’t his led to his demise. We noticed he appeared less active last week, few days later he got stuck between Girlfriend’s breeding net and the glass. He didn’t make it through the night 😦
Goodbye, beloved pretty boy.
Hamburglar has been doing what he does best.
I find it surprising that PUFA is still alive, isolated and barely eating. I wonder if he can teleport…
We came home to find Graves doing the Dead Fish’s Float at the bottom of the tank.
We don’t know what happened – it was all too sudden. It seems like only a week ago that we brought him home and made him a part of our family. Perhaps that’s why he stayed in the bushes yesterday. Why did he want to die alone?
At his funeral service, we (mostly I, as J was hysterical – with grief, understandably) said a few words in his memory before sending him to Davy Jones’ Locker. He was definitely the best (only)
goldblackfish I’ve ever had. I hope he was happy in our tank, and that he gets to go to fishy heaven when Fish Jesus comes. Do fish have souls?
Since we saw Wicked last Friday, our elegy was “For Good”:
I’ve heard it said
that fishies come into our lives for a reason,
bringing something we must learn.
And we are led to those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we feed them in return.
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today
Because I watched you.
Like a comet pulled from orbit
as it passes a sun,
Like a stream that meets a boulder
halfway through the wood
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?
But because I watched you
I have been changed for good.
Rest in peace, Graves.
Pie Jesu, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.
You will be missed.
We also noticed PUFA not moving in his one-gallon tank, and almost flushed him, but we realized in time that he was alive. Whew! That would’ve been two much tragedy for one day.
Yesterday, we noticed that Girlfriend was looking especially chubby. Her gravid spot was especially dark and looked ready to pop.
PUFA was reassigned to an old plastic 1-gal fish tank with glass beads, as the peanut’s proven himself unworthy of parole.
Unfortunately, the stress of moving Girlfriend into the breeding net may have traumatized her and resulted in a few baby guppy abortions 😦
No new guppy babies yet, but we’re excited for their arrival 🙂
Graves’ eyes have been more pronounced. It was very difficult to get a good picture of him; he was in the mood for some hide-and-seek behind his bush.
Did we mention that Hamburglar has very attractive orange lips? We both find that mesmerizing. Can’t keep our eyes off him as he keeps sucking rocks and continually poops all day.
All these pictures of fish tend to make me hungry…. so we spent a good chunk of yesterday making macarons. As they have to mature for 24 hrs or so, I have been exercising extreme patience for some guilty goodness.
The reward was worth the wait.
PUFA, our little *pea-nut* (“pea” because he’s a pea-sized puffer and “nut” because he’s, well, a loony), has been looking a little lonely since we assigned him to solitary confinement. Upon tactical positioning of newly procured green leafies (to beautify and oxygenate the tank, which would also serve as hiding places for PUFA), we decided it would only be right to give PUFA a second chance at communal living.
I have decided PUFA is smart. A genius, in fact. He was the most well behaved fish in the first half hour, slowly drifting through and exploring the new plants. On our second check-up, we noticed all the tetras had stubs for fins. Not just one tetra, but all 4. Not little snippets missing, but chunky chomps gone from their once complete appendages. My beautiful neon tetras. My centerpiece(s). Of course, PUFA was floating innocently amidst the handicapped tetras.
I was mad. PUFA was immediately re-placed in solitary confinement. No more pity for the little pea-nut.