…in the sky. Yep, we’ve managed to kill off another one.
I noticed that Bob was moving rather strangely in his tank when I got home from work yesterday evening and Dh put some of his medicine in the water. It was all a bit ER for 30 seconds – I practically got the defib equipment out whilst shouting ‘FULL BLOOD COUNT, CT SCAN AND CONTACT NEXT OF KIN GODDAMMIT!’ The jump juice seemed to perk him up a bit. Bob, not Dh. I announced his departure on Facebook (again, Bob. Not Dh), and five minutes later had to issue a retraction as Bob seemed to undergo an Easter miracle and rise from the depths…of his tank…and start swimming again.
Dh checked on the Bobster before he went to work at the ungodly hour of 5.30am this morning and he was a deceased fish. He had fallen off his Spongebob house. He was now sleeping with…well, Maisy and Eddie.
I HATE fantail goldfish. We know the water is good as we’ve been so careful with it. The filter works. He was fed appropriately. He had medicine when he was looking a bit droopy. What else could we have done?
R noticed the empty tank this morning after breakfast and I briefly explained that Bob had been very sick and had to go away, like Maisy and Eddie before him. She looked sad for about 10 seconds until G piped up: ‘Can we get Miffy now?’
Anyway, Dh and I have discussed it and we’re going to get to normal bog-standard cheap as (fish n) chips goldfish. You know, the yellowy-orange sort that we all had as kids. Maybe not just yet though.
FYI, Charlie and Lola the guinea pigs are thriving* and now eat from our hands. They are infinitely easier to look after than the infernal fantail goldfish
*Have I doomed them by writing that?