So Sam died. In truth, I worry that I took him out of a comfortable environment. In the back of the fish room, in dim lighting and without filtered water or a heat source, he thrived – healthy and beautiful and making little bubble nests for a potential mate to come and join him in his paradise. I took him home (during which he spent two and a half hours in the bag because I drove to Rockingham to drop a colleague off while the trains are down) and he lived a quiet two and a half days in my tank. I discovered him yesterday morning, gently pirouetting in the gravel.
I took a water sample into work to test the pH, the general hardiness and the ammonia. The pH was unusually high (8.1, when it’s supposed to be around 7) but that probably wouldn’t have killed him. I’ve bought some pH down and a testing kit, and work was kind enough to pass another fish into my care. His name is Lyota, or Leo (or possibly Lion) for short. So far he’s survived the night, pressed up against the glass of the heater. It was particularly cold, so I’ve cranked it up another degree. I’ll do my best to help him at least see summer.
I’m sad at the possibly needless loss of life, and that I might have somehow been responsible for it, but I’m not weighed down by the loss. Here is the only picture I ever took of Sam, and a picture of Lyota sitting on top of the heater. Apologies for the quality, but I found it hard to take a picture of him against the dark background when he spent most of his time at the bottom of the tank. Here’s to hoping I don’t continue this train of death and make another “My friend” post tomorrow.