Those of you who follow me on FB and have read this blog in recent months know of the constant tragedy that is our fish tank. Every few weeks, it feels like we have a death in “the family”. Nearly all of the original cast have passed on with the exception of James, the patriarch of the tank.
Sure, we’ve got others:
Juno (she was preggers when we got her)
Audrey (she’s silver and shimmery, like old Hollywood)
Most of Bowie (a small school of neon tetras–totally glam)
Corky (also a neon tetra, but with a twist in his body like a corkscrew)
The Sirs (surpae tetras we’ve never really named. They are constantly suspicious.)
The Tiger Barbs (originally 3, now down to 2–never named)
Mick (sucker fish, huge mouth–sexy ugly)
Clementine (female swordtail)
Professor Chaos (dwarf gourami)
Somehow, though, it always seems as if we are preparing for another fishy death. Each week brings someone who looks a little sickly. Usually, when they are about to die, they go to the corner. Yeah, that’s right, the corner of the tank. Specifically, the upper right hand corner in the back, by the filter. Whenever a fish starts hanging out there solo, we know it’s only a matter of time. It’s become a weird phenomena, really. I mean, what is so dang special about that corner? If I’m being honest, it’s kind of disturbing. Like the final scene in The Blair Witch Project when the girl goes into the scary basement and sees her friend standing in the corner. I get the heebie-jeebs just thinking about it…
I get sad when I see the fish in the corner, not just because it means death is coming, but because I’ve been somewhat desensitized to loss as a result. I used to feel obligated to do something ceremonial, or atleast utter an RIP as they circled the drain. But now, I don’t even feel the need to pause in conversation as I hear the whoosh… I’m making the frown face just typing it.
Is our fish tank cursed? Or is it just the nature of the beast? Or, am I tired on a Thursday night from a long few days of work and am rambling incessantly? You decide…