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?
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!
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?
Evening mourning over Graves’ watery grave.
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.
Graves in his prime, with a fire in his eye.
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.
Hamburglar is still pooping. A long string of feces trails after him as he sucks rocks. He also seems to be teaching Graves how to swim (while pooping).
Hamburglar pooping. Unashamed!
That trail is poop!
Boyfriend is still chasing Girlfriend! Girlfriend went to Hamburglar with a job offer as a bodyguard (or possibly a love triangle is developing?), but he was too busy pooping/sucking rocks. Boyfriend, briefly tired of chasing Girlfriend, tried tasting the foliage, but it wasn’t very good.
Today is really about PUFA though. He slowly became more courageous. Sometimes he tried to fit in with the tetras. We noticed that he was the only fish who recognized our presences. We think he might be a sociopath and/or psychopath and/or have Asperger’s and autism.
Then, all of a sudden, we saw him take a bite out of Sucka (now named Jack/Jacques)! Then, we saw him try to do the same to Graves, but Graves held his ground. PUFA kept harassing and biting the other fish, particularly the tetras, who are all now missing half their tails, so we had to intervene. We arrested him and placed him in isolation.
We read up on dwarf puffers, and it turns out they can be quite aggressive! (And J thought they were cute!) They also seem to not like pellets or flakes, which is all we have to eat. I think he might’ve gotten hungry and cranky and taken it out on the other fish. J is trying to teach him how to eat the food we have (using the “eat or die” method).
Parting thought: I wonder if fish think, “Food is falling from the sky!”
I think we have FAS – Fish Acquisition Syndrome! At my urging, and news that the store had a new shipment, we paid them a visit and brought home two new friends:
Sushi, another red zebra, so Sashimi has a buddy.
Graves, a black moor with not-yet-bulgy eyes. We went through several name ideas, from Venice to Katchzsper to Big Baby Booty (BBB) to Niggababy. We finally decided on “Graves” in reference to Graves’ hyperthyroidism, which causes exophthalmos (proptosis).
Graves is still learning how to swim, so he’s very clumsy, but he likes to move.
Sashimi is smaller than Sushi, and the two haven’t quite gotten along yet.