They were probably the last things we moved over from our old house. Mainly because we have no emotional attachment to them. They just swim around and around and I can't pat them and they're a bit boring really.
Nevertheless, I look after them, change their water, feed them, throw a stick for them, take them for walks on balmy evenings. You name it, I do it. It's called 'fish guilt'.
And now to add another dimension to my 'fish guilt' the silverfish has developed a really wonky tail and sits at the bottom of the tank. He's not dead. He'd probably just like to be.
I've asked Matt to euthanise him, but he won't. And every time I see this fish he makes me feel nauseous. I've googled to the nth degree, some say calcium deficiency (but the other fish is fine so it doesn't make sense), and some say electrical currents due to the filter (ditto the aforementioned) and others say it's genetic. It's horrific, that's what it is fo' shiz.
The black fish, aptly named 'Night Fury' occasionally gives the silver (nameless) fish a bit of razz and races him around the tank until the silverfish settles back at the bottom of the tank.
To make matters worse, the Doctor has heard me talking about flushing the fish down the toilet (which I, by the way, don't think is a very eco-solution, let alone RSPCA friendly), to which Tiny responded: "Uh! Don't flush the fish down the toilet. The fish will be sad!" To which the Doctor replied that it was a very special place for half-dead fish to go.
Anyone want our fish?
image is of some very ugly fish I once spotted in the Borrough Markets. Hideous looking things.