Remember that post from a while back about my friend who has goldfish? The fish survived while I was watching after them. But a week ago, the same friend went out of town.
And asked me to watch after his fish.
And I agreed. He was going to be gone for longer than a week this time, so he informed me that I would have to change some of the water in the tank and left me instructions on how to do this.
Having never owned fish as pets, I was a little uncomfortable with the idea of messing with their habitat alone. I brought my good friend Allison with me, and together we managed to fill a bucket and change the water, all without killing any fish.
My friend (his name is Chase) owns three fish. A bigger adult goldfish, and two small pre-teen age goldfish. He’s planning on adding more fish, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet.
While we were changing the water Allison asked me how many fish there were, and that was what I told her. She looked a little confused, but didn’t say anything else about it.
Yesterday I went over to Chase’s apartment to feed the fish yet again. I climbed up on the step stool and sprinkled in the food while I took inventory of the fish, just to make sure I hadn’t lost any.
One big fish.
Two little fish.
Sure enough, there was a tiny little speck hovering next to the pre-teen fish. At first I mistook it more something floating in the water, but when I got closer it was indeed a little goldfish, swimming around happily.
There was a new little baby fish.
My reaction was something along the lines of “Wha…..wha….uduuhhhhh?”
I texted Chase: “I’m about to tell you something. Don’t panic.”
His response: “What?!?!?!?”
Yeah. Way to not panic.
“I went to feed the fish today, and there weren’t three,” I said.
“Oh no,” he replied
“There were four.”
He didn’t believe me.
“Psh. Sure. Very funny.”
I texted Allison. She told me she thought she had seen the baby fish, but she hadn’t been sure. Now she was positive.
I texted Chase again, and with the agreement of Allison, he finally believed me.
“But….HOW??” he asked.
I googled goldfish. Did you know that they lay eggs? Well, now you do. What likely happened was that one egg had just taken longer to hatch than the others. But that story wasn’t interesting enough for me.
“Fish incest.” I said.
“Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Ugh. Oh great. I’m just going to pretend that didn’t happen.” Chase said.
All of the fish are named after authors, so I named the new little guy Fitz. It’s short for Fitzgerald, one of my all-time favorites.
Wether or not Fitz is the product of fish incest, he’s adorable. I had a fifty/fifty shot at guessing his gender, so I decided he was a boy.
And I happily left Chase’s apartment today with a baby blue bow on the tank that reads “Congratulations! It’s a boy!”
Welcome home Chase.