Animals

I'm not a huge animal person. 

There. I said it.   

Grab your torches and pitchforks.

BUT!

Don't get it twisted, playas.  I like animals. They're okay. Some are cute. Some.

But if it were up to me and solely me, I wouldn't own anything more than a fish or two. 

It's partial laziness, partial OCDness, and partial I just naturally am not an overzealous animal lover.

Now put your torches and pitchforks away because I have a story to tell. 

With all the above being said, the animals I do have are well-taken care of and loved. 

Or so I thought.

 I'm well aware that Sam is suffering from not-as-much-attention-itis ever since I got pregnant with Avery and even more so once A was born. Even still, she has a better life than the majority of humans so don't cry for her, Argentina. 

But the fish? They don't require two walks daily minimum and belly rubs on demand. So they aren't getting neglected. And don't you worry, animal lovers. Sam is giving me payback in the form of showing out. Some of the showing out is adorable like when she'll beg for attention and rest her head on my leg or the couch or bed. 

Sadness.

And some of the showing out is zoo-like behavior such as stealing food directly out of the fridge (don't ask) or getting so hyped up to go outside that she runs straight into the sliding door because she thought it was open.

Yes, I have time to make my glass doors look awesome, priorities.

Anyway...

Our fish tank started to grow algae despite water changes, etc. so I took a water sample to the pet store for testing.

All levels are perfect he said.

But over the next week algae started growing more rapidly so I took a sample back a couple weeks or so later and I think: hey, while I'm at it let's take a sample of water from the perfectly clean and sparkling no algae filled small tank that lives in the upstairs hall, where Cheetoh the beta lives.

At the pet store I dropped off the samples and went to do some shopping at another store in the shopping complex. But not before Ariana exclaimed, "OH! Big Mommas!" And beelined over to a tank of massive goldfish.

I thought that was a real jellyfish in the tank and was so confused on how it was cohabiting with goldfish. My head was literally hurting as I was trying to wrap my mind around the situation. Then kid number two point out it was decor.

Mommy needs more sleep.

When I returned I found the store associate and asked, "So how'd the water test?" With a smile on my face, Optimistic that all was still well. 

She looked at me with deep concern, like she was a doc and I was about to get a horrible diagnosis. "Have you suffered any loses in the tank?"

That can't be good.

"No, everyone's still alive and swimming!" Get it?

She's not amused. And seems shocked no fish are dead and she went on to tell me that the algae-filled tank wasn't too shabby, but the sparkly clean perfect looking tank? 

She pulled out a sheet of paper...

Nooooot a good sign. 

And goes on to tell me a few things tested in the "deadly" range. 

Father God, how is Cheetoh still living?

In all honesty, Cheets has been moving slow and looking rather poorly. I thought it was just a little depression from being solo in his tank. But now I know the real reason why.

We got home and immediately did as instructed in an attempt to save Cheets from death-by-toxic-tank. And I'm happy to announce that homeslice is hanging in there and is looking a bit more perky. That same day Samantha ate four cookies off the stove and attempted to get in the shower with me.
But let's focus on the positives; fish = living.

Moral of the story: don't get cocky about your fish keeping skills. And walk the dog a little more.