My fourth goldfish just carked it, so I'm now officially giving up on trying to be a fish-mum.
I'm obvioisly doing something very wrong.
First there were Ajax and Omo - they were both orange Fantails and survived the journey not only all the way back from Kal (240km) but accompanied me shopping in Woolworths before I even left Kalgoorlie! When we got home Ajax promptly swum sideways and died. Omo was a toughie tho and lived on solo in the tank for 2 months.
JB bought me fish number three -Harpic. He was a Comet and despite a traumatic fall from the window hanger-to the seat- to the floor In JB's car (on the journey home from Kal - which nearly caused JB an accident as she skidded to a halt to retrieve him!), he too survived two months before suddenly dying.
After a long discussion with the Pet shop gal (who assured me I was doing nothing wrong), I decided I'd go a fourth attempt and bought a Black goggle eye fish last Friday. I called him Bingo (hoping he'd be lucky) and he lasted.... wait for it.... TEN WHOLE DAYS.
I feel horrible that I've killed another one.
I spent a large portion of today on the 'Goldfish Emergency 911' site trying to save the little sucker. I'm now convinced the pet shop gal knows SHIT ALL about fish, and the tank I bought off them is DODGY, and our water up here SUCKS.......... because it couldn't possibly be all MY fault that four little innocent fish have snuffed it whilst in my care. Could it?
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JB is away converting to Yankee-ism in New York. She's loving it and reckons she's never coming home - she'd better because its weird here without her.
Anyway... I've been watering her plants because she only lives 4 doors up the road. On Friday I took the dogs up there, locked them in her yard while I watered and they LOVED it. They raced around the yard chasing each other, hid in the bushes - they had a great old time.
Today I thought I'd do the same.
Within one minute Murphy had found a broom and went mental attacking it (he has a 'thing' with brooms -it's an issue we're working with him on) and while trying to release it from his lock-jaw before it was completely trashed, I tripped over a sprinkler in the back yard, fell over & twisted my ankle - snapping the sprinkler off at the base of the retic pipe. I still didn't get the bloody broom off him and had to practically rugby tackle him and pull his ear till he yelped and released it. Shit-head dog.
I then locked them in the yard (or so i thought) and went to the other neighbours place to turn his retic on & water the back potplants. When I came out JB's front gate was open and there was no sign of the dogs.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiit. Crap crap crap.
I ran up the street screaming 'Murpheeeeeeeeeeeeee' (you can't call out to Diesel coz he's deaf as a door-nail and it's no use) a guy in a ute drove by and said he'd seen them run up the street into the bush. I had visions of squashed dogs on the highway because they have ZERO road sense (and zero intelligence) between them. As I ran down the street toward our house I screamed to husband to come help. I then spied Murphy staring at me from about 50 meters away in the bush. As soon as husband walked outside Murphy ran toward home, with Diesel following 2 feet behind.
I fully need therapy after todays animal incidents.