If you haven't guessed, this is a blog about goldfish.
I have one right now. I got him at biology class and named him Rory, thinking that he was going to die pretty soon. We brought him home and bought a little (2.5 gal.) thing to keep him in, and he was pretty comfy, and didn't die in a week like we thought. So we went to the Goodwill and bought him a bigger tank (5 gal.) with a filter and such.
Well, pretty soon we discovered that goldfish actually need way more space than that, and the joyfullness of ammonia. We got some test kits, fixed the ammonia, and took a tank (10 gal) from our friends whose fish died. I promise you, that fish tank was the dirtiest fish tank in the world!
I cleaned out the tank, and started to cycle it. Then we decided that Rory needed a friend, so we filled up the little tankish thing, and went to Petco. We chose a beautiful little active goldfish with a black stripe on the top, and brought her home, naming her Christina. It turned out that the black stripe was a case of very bad ammonia poisoning, and the reason she was so active was because she was poisoned. Un-fixably.
The quarantine tank and Rory's were right next to each other, and Rory could see her dying. She had a cup in her tank, to keep the airstone down, and when she was freaked out she would hide there. She sort of floated into the cup and sank to the bottom.
And then she died.
They used to swim in their separate tanks next to each other, Rory and Christina, and for the next few days, he swam back and forth, like he was looking for her.
Then the biggest tank (10 gal), which was cycling just fine, did something weird, and all the ammonia and nitrites disappeared, with no trace of nitrates.
So we went to the Fish Store (yes, that is the name.) and they said it was ok to put Rory in it. And we did. He likes it a lot, but he is very lonely. Right now we are waiting for the nitrites in the medium tank (5 gal) to go down so we can buy a friend and quarantine her. And yes, this time her name will probably be Amy.
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