The Great Fish Debacle

I have a void in my heart.  I want another baby.  Another little something to take care of, to love on, to fret about.  That's out of the question, so instead I want a pet.

But we had a pet.  So I can't have one.  Because when you give your pet away, there is a certain period of time that needs to pass before you get another one, lest your friends who knew your pet give you the side-eye and call you a bad pet owner in whispers.  

Brixton really likes fish, as it turns out, and a fish is barely a pet.  So after a one minute discussion with Brendan, I went to the pet shop close to my gym, where I was supposed to be working out instead of buying fish stuff.  

It all started with a goldfish and a small bowl.  It ended with a 2.5 gallon tank and three female bettas, who the shop girl said unenthusicatically, "Yeah, they'll get along."  It also involved a water plant, decorative pebbles, a cave, and a floating log, which the package promised would alleviate fish boredom.  Look, I know it's a sales pitch, but the idea of my fish being bored made me really sad.  Hence, the log.  

I came home from the gym..er..pet shop, all non-sweaty and Brendan was like, "Baaaaabeee...".  I set up the tank, conditioned the water, and placed the cave just so.  Then I released the three female fish into the tank to become best fish friends for ever and ever.

Until one began bullying the other.  And they started fighting.  And I got mad anxiety from it.  And I wasted an entire evening staring at the fish version of Melrose Place instead of investing those precious minutes doing something else productive (blogging??).  

The next day, first thing, I loaded the three lady fish back into their plastic cups, poured the water out of the tank, and took it all back.  I wanted a male betta.  They are so purdy.  And a female, because they won't fight, right?  And he might get lonely.  (I'm so afraid animals feel emotions like lonliness and boredom just like I do).  

I picked out a purdy blue man betta and a red lady betta.  I wanted some flashy colors, since the fish were really for Brixton, not for me (chortle).  And I got a 5 gallon tank.  And another cave.  Boy, this goldfish-in-bowl idea certainly was costing a lot!

According to all the forums, a male betta and female betta have some chance of living in harmony, though breeding must be done under very specific conditions.  "Well, good."  I thought.  I didn't want THAT going on in my house.

Guess what?  The male fish seemed to HATE the female.  I felt bad for her.  She was always hiding, on the lookout, running away.  Until day three.  

When they spawned.

Yes.  It was so gross.  The male blew this bubble nest and then they got all close and I was like, "Um, what are they doing?" and Brendan was like, "Oh, you know."  And I got all embarrassed and grossed out (yes, it doesn't take much).  Brixton would point and say, "Fish!" with his fat little finger extended out.  "Noooo!  Don't look!" I wailed, carrying him away while covering his eyes. 

Then I watched as the female was all "But I love you!" and the male fish would chase her away.  What a jerk.  I felt really bad for her, but what did she expect?  She only knew him for 3 days!

I had to clean out the tank today because some fuzzy stuff was growing on everything.  With it, the bubble nest (gross) was cleaned up.  I have now learned my lesson and will never pair a male anything with a female anything. The female now resides in the tank alone, while the male has moved on to a tall flower vase.  

On a bright note, Brixton didn't notice anything.  He does now point and say, "fish" quite often.  I shudder to think if he were 3 and noticing the fish "copulation."  

Mommy, what are they doing?  Dancing, darling.  Dancing.