MY GUPPIES

Last night I went to PetsMart to get dog food and bird seed, and I was hypnotized by the fish tanks. I searched for the guppies and asked the kind young man if he would help me. Yes, he said he would. I want guppies. "Guppies? Like these?" Yes, I guess like those. "Do you have a tank?" No, not a tank, a goldfish bowl. "A BOWL?" Yes, a bowl. He thought, I'm sure, "I might as well put these poor fish on the floor and have you stomp on them, that's a good a chance as they have surviving with you as their owner." We chose 2 boys and 2 girls for me. These are not the guppies of my youth, they have fancy tails and are pretty big, about and inch and a half long. But very pretty. "Do you want plants?" Yes of course I want plants. "You may want to think about getting artificial ones, live ones probably won't survive." Again, thinking "I may as well tie them to your bumper and have you drag them home, that's their best shot at survival with you." So I picked out 2 live plants and bought one fake plant. "You'll need a filter and an air stone, some water conditioner and of course the food." OK, I can do this. I want them to have a good home, a home they can be proud of. "Do you , like, live an hour or more away?" I clearly have the look of someone who does not have neighbors. "No, they'll be ok." As long as I race home. So home I went, NO NO NO not a red light. Get out of the way, people, the lives of 4 guppies are at stake here.

Next task: locate the goldfish bowl. This was a bowl that Jamie bought in RI many, many years ago when Mark had one of his famous fish dinners, where he covers the table with plastic, puts water on the table and buys a lot of feeder goldfish (fish meant to be food for other fish) and has them swim around the table while you eat. This is a fantastic feat and so much fun it's not to be believed. Anyway, Mark said the fish were all of poor quality, cost 11 cents a piece and would all die but Jamie (being Jamie) did not believe him so we took 50 fish home with us. All but one were dead within a week. That one fish lived for several months and Mark got to know more than Jamie about fish.

So...find the bowl. It's in the mud room, this I know. The mud room is armpit-deep in stuff. I found the boards from the old boathouse that Henry wanted me to keep. I found the red bucket, lid soldered shut, that Grampy used to sit on while he caned. I found shop vac, plastic wrap from futon, pots for deck, canning jars, and of course, since I'm a box hoarder, lots and lots of boxes. FINALLY, at the bottom of it all was the goldfish bowl. YEA! I set it up, I washed the gravel, I conditioned the water, I put in the bubbler, the plants and, at last, the fish. By now the dogs are incredibly jealous of the fish. As soon as I put the bowl down on the stand they all come right up to it and snot it totally. The fish are happy, but spend the evening on one side of the bowl, next to the television. They can't see the picture but seem to like listening to CSI. They are apparently happy in their new home. Tess likes to watch them. They are still alive this morning but I forgot to feed them. I don't like the constant hum of the pump. It may not run all the time that I'm home but it can run while I'm at work and during the night. My well water can go right into the bowl because it's not treated. They are happy fish. Tracey at work says they will multiply like, well, like guppies. I hope so.