Blue Friday

All but four of my fish have died. I brought in a new fish a couple of weeks ago, and he must have brought some nasties along with him. A terrible case of ich took over the tank. On Monday, I had about 35 fish. As of this morning, I have four.

Some may say "they are just fish," but they were MY fish. They were my responsibility, and it was very obvious that the last week of their lives was not pleasant. I feel absolutely horrible about the whole thing. It was like a mini black plague and I was the grave digger.

My heart hurts over this whole thing. I really enjoyed my fish. My "frickin fish" as I called them. But after this experience, I think I am done with it. I failed these little guys and gals, and I don't ever want to have to see this happen again. Not on my watch. We'll see if the cory cat and the new sucker fish make it through. If they do, the two of them will have a lot of room in the tank for themselves. There are currently two other platys still hanging on, but I wouldn't be surprised that even as I type this if they have already headed to the big aquarium in the sky.

This whole experience makes my post the other day about eating fish hit home even more. Fish count. They swim and have little eyes and little hearts. They are nothing close to a vegetable. And seeing them suffer in my own tank has been pretty tough to watch. It just reinforces why I think I get upset when people who claim "veg*n" then say "but I eat fish." It just doesn't compute. I don't get sad when I pick tomatoes from the garden and eat them - but watching these little dudes get sick and die has been absolutely terrible.

Ugh. That's it for now.

Oh, and I may go to a two hour spin tomorrow.