You know how you go to the fair and toss ping pong balls into the little goldfish bowls? And if you “win” you get to bring one of the little fellas home with you? Only then you find out it’s not any ordinary goldfish, but Otto the Amazing Growing Goldfish?

Okay, so in my case, it’s not a goldfish and there was no fair. In my case, because, you know, only me, my son’s girlfriend decided to bring him home a little fishie from her trip to the beach. A harmless little cutie that my son could plop in a small tank and take off to college with him. An easy dorm companion (on the off chance he didn’t hit it off with his roommate.) Something to keep him company as they will soon be parted from each other.

Yeah.

Now, I was okay with this, and even helped look into getting a small tank kit so fishie could go to college. Of course, like with the county fair goldfish, I figured his chances of survival that first week or so were probably pretty slim anyway, but I was playing along just in case. He hadn’t liked the ride home from the beach and spent much of his time floating at very odd angles, looking for all the world like he was going to meet his little fishie maker at any moment. My son was upset about his possible demise, as this was, after all, a Gift from his Girlfriend. Gifts are not supposed to die. But in those first few days, things did not look particularly positive. Clearly, fishie wasn’t doing well. Or so we thought.

As it turns out, apparently he just likes floating on his side. Or upside down. Or hanging vertically for hours. Just because he can.

Hence, he was christened Special K.

So…now that it looks like the little guy might actually make it to college, we need to get a tank. And to do that, we need find out what kind of fish he is. All his girlfriend knew was that it was some kind of shark fish. After a little sleuthing, I found out he is an Irridescent Shark. Which, upon further digging, one discovers is actually in a family of freshwater, exotic catfish. This last bit of news was imparted to me by a girl at my local fish store, who could barely conceal her mirth. I was perplexed. After all, they sold a number of varieties of catfish right there in her store. All except mine.

Turns out there is a reason for this.

Special K, as it happens, is a pangsius catfish. From Thailand. They don’t breed them here because, well…they get kinda large. The fish store girl, trying and failing to conceal her grin, went on to explain that, in the wild in Thailand, these fish can grow to be several feet long. I was sure I hadn’t heard her correctly. Surely she didn’t say FEET long. After all, he is a tiny little fishie.

Well. Not for long.

In fact, in the wild, they’ve been known to consume small children. Hmmm. If only my son’s girlfriend was a little more petite…

Okay, I’m kidding. About the girlfriend. She’s a sweetie who is just as horrified by the monster she has unleashed upon us as we are. I’m not, however, kidding about Special K. Who, like Otto, has begun to grow. Who, in fact, is thriving in his upside down, sideways, vertical aquatic world.

I imagine and quickly discard various scenarios where Special K mysteriously disappears. After all, he is a Symbol Of Their Love. I can’t flush a symbol. Tempting, but no. Besides, given the menagerie of critters in my house, clearly I’m not capable of critter homicide anyway.

Which means Special K needs a new aquatic environment. And quickly. This also means he can’t be a dorm fishie as, well, he’ll be a bit too large for dorm life before we even hit mid terms. So…yay me…that means I have a new pet. Whose life I must preserve, because, you know, symbol symbol symbol. My younger son pipes up that he’ll help. (He’s a critter collector like his mom. Except when it comes to, you know, the actual work involved.)

Okay. So fish girl tells me that in captivity, Special K won’t grow so big. Only, you know, about a foot, foot and a half.

Yeah. Almost downright petite in comparison. And, oh, by the way, he’s a schooling fish, so he’ll need a few buddies. And they can’t be just any other fish, because he’s a protein eater and, you know, they’ll end up as Scooby Snacks, if they’re too small. Oh, she adds, almost too delighted to share this part, when he gets bigger, I can feed him frozen bloodworms. It’s really cool to watch. I try not to gape.

What am I? Marlin Perkins all of a sudden? How did my life become Animal Kingdom in Action?

Great. Just great.

I sigh and ask grinning fish girl what size tank, exactly, will I need. After all, at the moment, he’s just a tiny little fish. I’m informed that something the size of a small couch would be best, but I could probably start a bit smaller for now. Only 37 gallons or so. You know. For starters.

I look at Special K. He stares back at me with his googly eyes and drifts on his side for awhile. I’m pretty sure he might have laughed at me. Hard to tell. The small stream of bubbles looked suspicious though.

So…fish girl puts me in contact with fish guy who actually owned a pair of these. He quite happily told me that his pair lived to be 12 years old.

TWELVE. YEARS.

I look at Special K. He’s definitely smirking.

So, here I am…three weeks later, now the proud owner of a very large fish tank and a very small, but soon to be gargantuan fish. I am learning all about water conditioning, cycling tanks, nitrites, filters, good bacteria and appropriate sub strata. Special K (also known as Biggie K now) along with a few fishie buddies, will be moving into his lavish new digs this weekend. If I can get my nitrates straight.

I will share photos of the Big Move next week. Special K sends his love.

PS…this just in. Someone sent me a picture of the record holding biggest catfish ever. Caught in, you guessed it, Thailand. And yep…that’s a Special K pangsius cat. Help me.

Tags: Writing //