My sister’s fish just had babies. As I write this there are perhaps a dozen teeny little guppies the size of rice grains bobbing to and fro among the plastic lotus flowers and fake rocks in the fish tank. My sister and I squealed with delight when we saw this. We crowded around the tank like children and stared in awe at these tiny little fish babies.
The problem we encountered last time “Aphrodite” gave birth was that she and pappa “Hermes” started to eat their babies! I looked on a guppy forum and this is actually completely normal behavior for some reason or another. So we swooped to the rescue and transplanted the babies into a flower vase that we put into the tank so that they can still be in the tank with maternity ward type situation until they are big enough not to get eaten by mom/dad.
We spent at least 30 minutes carefully scooping up each of the fry, taking care not to hurt them or make the transition all the more traumatic.
The reason I’m blabbing on about these guppies (which aren’t even mine) is because I had something of a mini revelation. After my sister had gone to a friends house, I came in the room and noticed that several of the guppies didn’t make it into the vase. I was pretty worried that they would get eaten, so I carefully scooped them out making sure that I wasn’t hurting them and that their time out of the water would be minimal. Instead of just plopping them in, I submersed the net so they could swim out themselves. While sitting on the floor staring up at the stupid tank with a picture of the golden gate bridge as the backdrop I realized how incredibly ironic this whole situation was.
Here I was so concerned over these guppies as if they were my own children, yet I didn’t bat an eyelash at the salmon salad I had for lunch yesterday. I’ve heard enough “bad” things about the food industry to make me never want to eat meat again, or any other type of food actually (from bleached soaked baby carrots to cinnamon with ground wood chips it’s a terrifying world we live in folks) but the truth is meat is delicious. I’ve been down the vegetarian route and I’m not going to deny that I always come back, tail between the legs, if only for a juicy grass fed cheese burger… with avocado. So I won’t ever scoff at anyone who does eat meat (because I am one of you… if only on the inside)
The truth is I just can’t justify eating that hamburger when I feel this feeling in the pit of my stomach… past the rumbling hunger pains… that it’s just not in my own nature to eat animals.
I just hate the whole mantra surrounding vegetarianism.
I’m going to go watch Finding Nemo now in celebration of the fish babies… and maybe in the hopes of convincing myself that these little guppies are more than just complete spazoids who swim into the tank walls all day. It’s not their fault, I would probably do that too if I were stuck inside of a tank. Fish tanks depress me a little bit… And animal enclosures in general.
On that cheery note ❤