My eldest has been begging for an aquarium for about four years. I gave her a kitten a few years ago hoping to stave off the fish scenario. The cat, the same Bibi Snowball that graces these pages from time to time, went down very well, but the fish obsession has endured.
I can do dogs, cats, horses, goats, chickens, ducks and maybe even pigs (but not all in this house) with equanimity, but tanks with fish in are most worrisome. It’s the environment you see. With the aforemention animals you just stick them in your existing environment whether it be inside or out and let them fit in with it. In the Rudi dog’s case this involved provided him with a whole settee and a kingsize bed. Simple enough. With these fish things you have to, and I think this where my anxiety stems from, create a whole new world.
Too cold, they will die. Too boiling, they will fry. Too toxic, death ensues. Wrong types of fish in the same tank, they will eat each other, or fight to the death. If the pump malfunctions they suffocate. In fact, whatever way you look at it, fish die and they die a lot. So even with the best will in the world, we will be bringing pretty little fish home to die in the front room. Slowly if we are successful, but as inexpert fish-keepers it could be quite quickly too.
Oh My God.
Anyway, the tank is full of water, the pump is finally working, we have de-chlorinated the water and fitted the filter. We have one plant and one topical volcanic rock and some gravel. D-Day will be next weekend.
Cross your fingers for the little fellas.
I would rather keep a couple of shells like these I found earlier.