A few weekends ago on 10/10/10 my cousin Jacquie got married. It was a gorgeous day and in the tradition of family weddings and funerals, a great time to catch up with the extended family.
We have a momento of the wedding now. Well, two if you also count which wasn’t the lovely coaster bonbonniere’s. The table centrepieces were a vase that contained a fish. There was a lovely letter next to the vase asking people to provide a home for the fish after the reception had ended.
My sister decided that the J bomb needed a new fish. I tried in vain to remind her the reason the fish tank was unoccupied at our house is a sad tale, that would have any innocent fish shuddering, and may possibly scar their 3 second memory. Then I claimed that we couldn’t take the fish, because we weren’t going home directly, but rather to Bundaberg and a 9 hour drive to get home would not be helpful for the fish. She kindly offered to transport the fish home. The fish looked lonely and unwanted. I gave in. Mickey was coming home with us. I have no idea who Minnie went home with.
I thought that perhaps Mickey may not get to reside in our place, my nephew became quite attached to him. Unfortunately the brother-in-law is able to resist my sister’s compelling arguments more than I can, and once the fish had the happy occassion of going to school for show and tell, he has now become a resident at our house.
On his trip home, we had a brief stop where I talked to my other sister who said the Betta fish – Siamese fighting fish – preferred warm water. Unfortunately our tank is not warm and cosy. Unfortunately I did not share this information with The Accountant in time. Unfortunately Mickey was deposited in the tank. I left him there for a few hours hoping that he might acclimatise. You never know, maybe he would grow an extra set of scales as a substitute for a woolly jumper. Alas, when I checked on him before bed, the fish was in what I now call “The Dying Corner”.
We have had three batches of goldfish. They are all now deceased. First there was Bibble, Bobble, Bubble and Boo. Then there was Captain, Admiral, Skipper and Kamikaze. The last tank residents were the fish that we bought on the day of the 2010 elections. Farley, Gilly, Abby and Libby. Despite being blessed with such fabulous goldfish names they were not long in this world. We have checked Ph, water levels, put anti-biotics in the water, etc. But the reason for the appalling mortality rates remain a mystery.
So, last night when I saw Mickey in the dying corner, I was alarmed and decided to take immediate action, removing him from the cursed tank and putting him into warm water in his vase. It seemed that this move quite startled Mickey, and he spent equal amounts of time swimming on his side (never a good thing) and trying to jump out. I then found an old fish bowl, so made the water a bit closer to lukewarm, and tipped him into his 3rd home for the night. After googling Siamese fighting fish in a panic and saying a prayer for his health and wellbeing I went to bed. Mickey has survived the night, so now I am contemplating our next move to ensure his longevity.