I wonder....

Uh oh, or to borrow a well known song title from Miss Britney; Oops, I think I did it again.

Over the last few weeks 'the hubby' and I (o.k. the hubby protested loudly while I blissfully ignored him) decided to pull out the old aquarium from the depths of the basement. Now, those who know me know I love all animals great and small and for the most part those creatures, whether great or small, whom have found their way into my loving arms have thrived. Yet, while I was dusting off the tank, antsy with anticipation over my soon to be new additions, I swear I heard a few horrified shrieks coming from the direction of the local pet store. See, I have somewhat of a turbulent past when it comes to fish. Basically, fish and I don't make a good match. Somehow, and it is beyond me why, every fish, with the exception of my first two goldfish, honey and bunny, have met with an untimely demise. I really don't understand. These fish of mine have the ultimate pad with the most up to date doo dads, they have filtration bubbles coming out of the kazoo, endless shipwrecks, castles and ferns to frolic about in, over, through and under. They dine on scrumptious cuisine. Yet, they die. I. just. don't. get. it.

Case in point, three weeks ago I went to the pet store and bought 2 pretty little calico fantails and the most beautiful Betta I have ever laid eyes on. I carefully and lovingly transported my little gems home, proudly showed them off to 'the hubby', the dogs, the bird and anyone else who crossed my path. I did EXACTLY as the pet store lady advised. I was so proud. All three got along swimmingly. For one whole week they flourished! I was practically walking on air. Me and my fish were doing just fine thank you very much. Then I saw it. The dreaded little white spots, like little grains of salt, dotting my little babies! Oh no! They had ICK!!!

I decided that no ICK was going to get my fishies so I rushed out to the pet store for help. My pet store lady wasn't there and I began to panic. My only option was a little scrawny pet store youngster with more holes and piercings on her face then I had over my entire body. What was I to do? My fish needed me so I swallowed my pride and asked for help. She really didn't seem that concerned. She shuffled over to the fish aisle and shoved a bottle of blue stuff in my hand. She mumbled something about not feeding them for 7 days and to make sure I replaced the water after treatment. I specifically asked if there was anything else that needed to be done. She looked at me like I had 10 heads and shook her head no.

I rushed home an treated my fish believing that in 7 days my fishies would be as good as new. I could almost hear them utter sighs of relief as I poured in the blue goo into the tank. I diligently treated my babies for 4 days but they didn't seem to be getting any better, in fact, they were now covered in white spots and worse my beautiful betta had become victim to the ick as well. I just didn't understand. Finally I called another pet store and explained what was happening. Turns out the scrawny pet store girl sold me the wrong stuff AND didn't tell me that I was to turn off the filter! For the last four days I had been treating my babies to no avail. Every time I put the blue goo in the tank the filter would just suck it right back out! Furthermore, she had told me NOT to feed them for 7 days. The people at the other pet store told me that fish could only go without food for 72 hours!

I was livid! If I had that scrawny pet store girl she'd have one less piercing I tell you! Anyhow, I bought the right stuff but it was too late. My pretty little calico fantails were just too riddled with disease to survive and much to my dismay they ended up being flushed. The hubby was so sad that day. I'm happy to report that the betta managed to recuperate and won the battle of the ick. I'm waiting to finish treating the tank for ick and then I'm off to the races again to get just a couple of fish to keep the betta company. Will I ever learn?

As I sit here typing this I've noticed that my betta looks a little green around the gills so to speak. I'm hoping he rallies once again but my gut tells me different. Perhaps this will be the last of the fish for me. I just don't understand my luck with the aquatic creatures.

Oh, what's that? you're going out of town for the weekend and you want me to look after your fish? no problem! Uh, did I just hear a shriek of terror coming from the direction of your tank?