For Christmas, Melinda's "big" gift was to get a pet fish. She got a tank and all the supplies needed, and we went to pick out a fish the next day. We picked a pretty fancy goldfish for $2, and took her home. Well, at least we decided it was a she. Who knows if it actually was or not. Melinda named her Lucy. After a girl at school, apparently, but I thought it was a perfect name for a little goldfish.
After about a week or so, and reading up on goldfish from library books as well as internet sites, I learned that goldfish aren't meant to be alone, so we decided to get Lucy a friend. Jacob got the honors of picking his own fish. While at the pet store, the employee in the fish section told us that minnows and goldfish are from the same family, and that they would be fine together. Jacob was very excited about this, because the little silver minnows were "super fast", so he happily picked a little $0.13 minnow, and we landed on the name Harvey for him. We brought Harvey home and happily provided Lucy a new friend.
We figured Harvey would be perfect, because he was nice and small, and wouldn't add too much of a toxin-producing load to our small fish tank. Unfortunately, I discovered something a little too late. Minnows are schooling fish, and if they are kept in groups of less than 6, they tend to be very aggressive. I hadn't really noticed very well, but Harvey had been attacking Lucy. Her fins were all torn up and shredded. I also discovered too late that our rock decorations were too sharp for a delicate, long-finned fish like Lucy, and that ended up causing her to lose scales. I believe that stress combined with the loss of scales caused Lucy to lose too many electrolytes to keep her alive.
Eventually, Lucy died. For a couple weeks, her fins were all clamped tightly to her body, indicating stress at very least. Her death was difficult to watch. She was floating around half-tilted sideways and drifting with the current for the better part of a day. I couldn't decide if it would be more humane to take her out of the water and suffocate her to death, or to let her stay until she died naturally, saving her from the stress of dying somewhere other than her home. (Side note: If I'm ever dying a slow death, I'd much prefer it to be in my home. Not in a sterile, unfriendly, unfamiliar hospital. Just so you know!) In the end, I kept her in the tank. And she was dead when we came back from a trip to the store. Melinda was very upset and cried quite a bit, and I was shocked at how much I was affected, too. I never ever EVER thought I'd even so much as blink at an inexpensive goldfish dying. But I was sad, too. She was a pretty fish, and I liked watching her. We took her out and flushed her down the toilet, after saying some quick goodbyes. Alex rather enjoyed that process, waving happily goodbye to Lucy, and then practically skipping off with a smile on his face after she was gone.
We decided to get Melinda a new fish, a small $0.13 goldfish this time. Melinda named her Lucy Two. She was the teeniest little goldfish I've ever seen, even smaller than Harvey the Minnow, and she was mostly white, sporting a couple gold spots. We instantly fell in love with her.
Of course, it wasn't until after we had Lucy Two that I discovered the problem with keeping a single minnow in a tank with other fish. After the first day or so, I really noticed Harvey chasing Lucy Two around, and not wanting Melinda to lose a second fish, I removed Harvey and stuck him in a tupperware on the counter until I could decide what to do. After stewing over it, I decided I didn't have the means to get enough minnows to keep Harvey happy, and didn't want to spend the extra effort to try to find him a new home, so we released him into the neighboring lake. I'm certain it killed him. The lake was halfway frozen over, definitely ice cold, and everything I learned about keeping fish told me that even just a couple degrees of temperature change at once could shock the fish and do it harm. We didn't stay at the lake long enough to find out for sure, though. All I saw was that Harvey stayed right near the edge where I released him, just under a thin layer of ice, and didn't dart around as was typical for him. We walked away, Jacob already talking about his next fish.
And yes, we were on the way to get yet more fish. After all, we still didn't want to sentence Melinda's fish to a life of solitude. We ended up picking out two more little tiny goldfish (instead of minnows!!). Jacob's fish was plain white, and named Harvey Two. The second we picked out was plain gold, supposedly Alex's fish, and the kids named him Jack. I didn't bother taking a picture of them this time around.
The three fish seemed to get along perfectly, ate up all the food we fed them nice and quickly, and the water stayed clean.
At least, so I thought.
Two weeks later, when I looked in the tank first thing in the morning, I found Jack laying upside down against the filter intake. I was shocked, but scooped him out and flushed him down the toilet. I had one little water quality test strip left, and I quickly tested the water. The Nitrate levels were off the chart. I made a huge mistake in assuming that since the water looked clean, that it was clean. That day and the day after, I did two different 50% water changes, hoping to bring the levels down quickly. (Most of the time, it's recommended that you stick to 10-20% water changes.) After those two days, I took a water sample to the pet store, and the nitrate levels were still dangerously high. The employee showed me an additive that can bring down nitrate levels, and I bought it and used it ASAP. The next day, with the help of a new stack of testing strips, I learned that we were back down to perfectly safe levels. Phew.
Two days later, Lucy Two died.
I broke the news to Melinda after I picked her up from school. She was not happy. Didn't cry quite so much as when the first Lucy died, but was still upset. We were both hoping to watch Lucy grow up to be a bigger fish, and see if her gold spots changed as she got bigger. I thought she would be okay... but she was such a tiny fish that I think the initial super-toxic nitrate levels just poisoned her little body beyond repair.
Somehow, through all of this, Jacob's little plain-white Harvey Two has survived. It's been two weeks since the last death, and he's still going strong, and nitrate levels are still looking good. I think we'll go ahead and get one or two more small goldfish soon, to keep him company. I think I've learned from my mistakes: I'm not putting anything even remotely sharp into the fish tank. I'm feeding only once a day, a small amount. I'm only buying goldfish, no more mixing of species for me. I'm using a better water additive to help keep the water clean. I'm making a water change at least a couple times a week.
Still, it's been quite a surprising adventure. I thought the biggest problem we'd have with pet fish would be getting algae all over the tank. That hasn't even been a hint of a problem. Instead, I've had to research all my problems to see where I've gone wrong. And I've felt really bad about how many fish I've killed. Lucy, Harvey, Jack, and Lucy Two. Four fish in two months. Eeek. And through it all, Melinda keeps on telling me that she wishes we could move to a new house, so we could have space to buy and keep a bigger fish tank. Uh-huh. As if that would help my rate of fish-killing!
I guess it's a good thing I didn't start out with a dog or a cat. And probably a good thing I never intend to go that route!
