Here, Fishy, Fishy, Fishy

I've grown up with animals, and I generally feel pretty confident caring for them.  Dogs, horses, cows, goats, cats . . . no problem.  But fish.  Wow.  I am in a whole new world here. 

For one thing, fish need a surprising amount of care in a very specific sort of way.  Water, for example.  How hard can it be, right?  You put clean water in, wait til it gets a little murky, and replace it.  Oh, nooo. 

For one thing, fish are very sensitive to the quality of the water.  You can't just use tap water.  You have to add a water conditioner (complete with skin conditioners, if you can believe that!).  It needs to be room temperature to avoid shocking their system.  Additionally, you can't just replace all the water.  You can only replace up to half the volume of their bowl (vases, in our case) because there's actually good bacteria in there that they need to remain healthy. 

Good grief. 

I am also finding that Betta fish are not terribly intelligent.  That may not surprise most of you, but it came as a bit of a shock to me.  The only other fish I'd had close interactions with was my ex's Arawana, Killer Kowalski. 

Killer Kolwalski was very smart.  He was also a bit of a bully.  When he lived at my in-laws', he liked to terrorize my mother-in-law and her aunt.  Really.  Whenever they'd walk into his room, he'd bang into the side of the tank and act like he was attacking them.  They were afraid of him.  He knew it.  He loved it. 

PT and Sharky, on the other hand, are not so bright.  My biggest complaint is their seeming inability to find food unless it is floating on the surface of the water.  Why should this bother me, you ask?

Uneaten food is one of the key issues leading to the degradation of water quality.  When I put food in and it starts to sink immediately, so does my heart.  Unless it passes right by their eyes, it's a lost cause.  It will sit on the bottom of that tank, or caught in the fake foliage, until doomsday . . . or I next clean the tank.

Our most recent pets, turtles, were much easier with this.  They loved scrounging for food on the bottom of the tank.  In fact, our musk turtle, Teddy, actually had to be taught to eat food from the top of the water . . . but even he learned!

To add insult to injury, I think the bloody things purge!  Honestly!  The fish store people said to feed from 1 to 3 tiny pellets at a time, but only as much as they scarfed up quickly (to avoid slimy, moldy yuckiness forming on the bottom of the bowl).  I do this.  I started with one three times a day.  I moved up to 2.  I've started with three.  Both fish attack and chew quickly.  So why is it that PT already has a collection of junk at the bottom of his vase when I just cleaned it this morning?!

I can't tell you.  It's annoying, though, because I am terrified of killing these things and adding yet another emotional loss to my children's psyches.  (Again, I have been responsible for 2,000-pound draft horses and felt less pressure than I do over two 3-inch fish.)  Let me just say PT has been put on a diet until he stops adding debris to his water supply!

Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on my poor little Bettas.  They are undeniably graceful and beautiful, and my children adore them.  And after all, they have figured out that meal time for us is meal time for them.  As soon as we sit down to eat, they both swim around furiously, bobbing up to the top looking, presumably, for food. 

I guess that's something.