Friday, 25 June 2010

Fish eat fish.

If I ever decided to open a shop, and that shop was a chip shop, I think I'd call it In Cod We Trust, or maybe For The Love Of Cod. That said, the chances of me opening a fish and chip emporium of any description are, to say the least, piss poor. I do however very much enjoy My weekly Friday fish and chip indulgence.

Three or four years ago a friend of mine who goes by the name of Bob gave the Dobbo family a tropical fish tank complete with a couple of fish. With gusto Mrs D set about packing the said tank with every shape and size fish she could lay her hands on. For a time all seemed well, then we discovered some fish quite like to eat fish. Numbers dropped and sadness befell our little home as the grim reaper of the fish world popped round again and again.

Nevertheless, we have continued to plod on. The survival rate has, to be fair, been poor. Currently we have three swimmers. They have all been with us for a while now, although slightly odd, I think they fit well in the Dobbo household. Lumpy has taken to piling stones up time and time again. Garfield sits quite happily in his log and the other one (could be either Claire or Bob) just splashes about apparently care free. The life of a fish would seem to be kind of OK. OK as long as your not trapped in a tank with other fish who want to eat you that is.