Not terribly long ago, I had this ingenious idea. Kind of. I thought it would be rather fun to put my adorable popeyed goldfish, Peepers, in the bathtub. Her bowl is rather little, and I thought she’d have a rather delightful time having a much larger place to swim around in. And so I cleaned the bathtub before filling it up with as much water as I had the patience for (it takes so long to fill up!), I made sure the water was the right temperature/density (vague “Everybody Loves Raymond” reference), and I put a bowl over the drain so there wouldn’t be any kind of unpleasant catastrophe that might result from a drain whose circumference is much larger than my fish, including an attempted escape on her part. You’re not going anywhere, Peepers. You are my prisoner for all of eternity….
I then put her in the tub, along with her beloved bridge, and she started to explore her new location. She wasn’t quite sure about this at first and only swam around a small area with her stomach nearly touching the bottom, but as time went by, she got more brave and started venturing farther and farther from her bridge, until she was at last exploring the entire bathtub. I had quite a lot of fun watching her swim around, and it was kind of like having a little aquarium. A rather lame aquarium, but hey, and I think Peepers had a good time, too. This was likely the largest area of water she had ever had the pleasure of exploring, as her tank back at the pet store hadn’t been too large, either (not terribly bigger than her bowl, really, and back then, she had roommates), and it seemed to be a bit too much for her, as she ended up taking lots of naps while in the tub, likely exhausted from all that swimming. Being a fish is hard work, it would seem.
And I have one more thing to contribute to this, no doubt, boring post (it’s not always easy thinking up ideas for you guys, gosh!). I wanted to see what would happen if I stuck my hand in the tub (fish are pets you get very little interaction with, and with not having any cats to pet anymore, I was critter-deprived), and when I did, Peepers swam up and started kind of sucking at my fingers with her weird, suction-cup mouth. It felt truly bizarre, but it was rather adorable, as well. She went wild over my hand for a little while before finally getting bored and swimming away. (Strangely enough, however, she won’t approach my hand while I’m holding food…. And here I was thinking she liked food.)
I left Peepers in the bathtub for several hours, occasionally checking on her to make sure all was well, and all was. All was indeed. I felt rather guilty, however, when I finally returned her to her bowl, which must’ve seemed rather cramped after getting to spend several hours in the “sea”. I will no doubt let her swim around the bathtub again sometime, and it’s funny, really, how we can care so much if a fish is happy, but I do care. I do care about my fish’s glee-level, and I can only hope Peepers had a grand, old time on her very first adventure.
The Duck All Fish Wish They Lived With