This morning, at 7:45am, we discovered that one of our fish were missing. One of the Red Snappers, in fact. After some searching, Claire found him, very still, very dead.
It seems like only last saturday we met – that’s because it was. I have literally never had a pet for such a short amount of time.
We sat Ned down to talk about he facts of life, while he ignored us and danced to the adverts on the television.
Then Mick (We’re assuming it was Mick) was (rather unceremoniously) popped into the bin. It wasn’t too upsetting – I feel as if myself and Mick didn’t have enough time to connect, so my feelings were mixed at best, but it was still sad to see the little guy go.
What stuck me as terrifying is I fed him exactly like the shop owner told us, his tank is at a temperate heat level (room temperature for small, non tropical fish, apparently) and the tank was safe. And he STILL died – I’m in charge of the health and well being of an actual living human, and have been for 8 months. A fish died under my care in 5 days. This concerns me greatly.
Rest in peace Mick, we hardly knew you.