Grim's Rescue
On May 5, 2017, I found myself at the house of an acquaintance, when I noticed a murky tupperware bowl in the corner. I moved closer and was appalled by what I saw inside.
In the tiny plastic bowl, in about three inches of filthy brown water, was a listless, dying betta. I was speechless.
The "gentleman" noticed me looking at the fish, and must've seen my facial expression. He said, "Yeah, he's not going to be around much longer. He stopped eating months ago. He's pretty old, so there's really not a lot you can do."
He then continued to "school" me about how bettas only live 2-3 years and that they do fine in dirty water, and it's totally not straight-up abusive to keep the fish like that.
I asked if I could have the fish. He was surprised at that request.
"Why do you want him? He's going to die any minute."
"That's fine. I want him."
"Well, are you willing to pay for him?"
"Why would I pay for him? You said he's going to die any minute."
"Well I have him, and you want him."
"You're going to charge me for a dying fish?"
"Supply and demand. Do you want him or not?"
I paid $10 for the fish. Then, I immediately left his house and stopped by my local pet store.
The timing of all this sucked. Normally, I am a complete stickler about not getting an animal unless I can afford to care properly for it, along with my other animals. And unexpected expenses the last couple months have made finances uncomfortably tight.
I bought some gravel and a 1.5 gallon tank kit with an undergravel filter, as well as a heater.
I hated buying one so small, but you must understand a) I was very, very broke, and b) I was 100% sure he was going to die within days. My goal was just to give him a comfortable place to spend his last days, with clean, filtered, warm water.
I didn't even show him to my kid, but hid the tank on the back edge of my tall bedroom dresser, because I didn't want her to get attached to a fish that was about to die.
That night, after he'd been acclimated the temperature, I dropped him in the tank, gave him about five minutes, then fed him.
His last owner said he'd stopped eating months ago. I don't know how true that is, but I do know that bettas can usually survive for about 2-3 weeks without eating, and I do know that the guy didn't even have any fish food in his house.
So I didn't expect the fish to eat.
He ate, though. He didn't even hesitate.
A 1.5 gallon is much too small, but in this case, it actually helped at first. He really struggled to move, because he was sick, emaciated, and his muscles had undoubtedly atrophied from not being able to move in the tupperware bowl for God knows how long.
I turned on the tank light and took a really close look at him, now that the water was clear and I could actually see him.
Here's what I saw:
1. His colors were dull and muted. I could barely see the difference between the red on the bottom and the blue on the top.
2. He was incredibly thin and emaciated. With the light on him, I could literally see his spine. I didn't even know that was possible in a betta.
3. His fins were clamped together, and seemed to make it even harder for him to get around. The way he struggled with using them made it look like a neurological condition.
4. He had popeye in both eyes.
5. His gills were red and inflamed, and he was breathing heavily all the time.
6. His mouth and lips were grotesquely swollen, I was actually surprised he was able to eat at all.
It looked bad. I was so sure he wasn't going to make it.
I hadn't gotten any fake plants or decorations, but I grabbed a betta hammock the next day so he could rest near the surface and breathe comfortably.
And I just fed him, did 50% water changes every other day, and waited for him to pass. I didn't think I'd have to wait long.
After 3 or 4 days, though, he was vastly improving. He was spending less time on his hammock, and more time swimming around, nosing around the gravel or making circles around the uplift tube of his filter. He got tired easily, but he was breathing easier and his popeye was better.
So I sprang for a couple of soft fake plants and put them in, to give him stimulation. And he continued to improve.
Finally, I decided to move him out of his hiding spot and tell my kid about him. I named him Grim, because the swollen mouth gave him a permanent frowning, grumpy face.
But he's happy, and he's enjoying life, and he continues to improve every day.
In the tiny plastic bowl, in about three inches of filthy brown water, was a listless, dying betta. I was speechless.
The "gentleman" noticed me looking at the fish, and must've seen my facial expression. He said, "Yeah, he's not going to be around much longer. He stopped eating months ago. He's pretty old, so there's really not a lot you can do."
He then continued to "school" me about how bettas only live 2-3 years and that they do fine in dirty water, and it's totally not straight-up abusive to keep the fish like that.
I asked if I could have the fish. He was surprised at that request.
"Why do you want him? He's going to die any minute."
"That's fine. I want him."
"Well, are you willing to pay for him?"
"Why would I pay for him? You said he's going to die any minute."
"Well I have him, and you want him."
"You're going to charge me for a dying fish?"
"Supply and demand. Do you want him or not?"
I paid $10 for the fish. Then, I immediately left his house and stopped by my local pet store.
The timing of all this sucked. Normally, I am a complete stickler about not getting an animal unless I can afford to care properly for it, along with my other animals. And unexpected expenses the last couple months have made finances uncomfortably tight.
I bought some gravel and a 1.5 gallon tank kit with an undergravel filter, as well as a heater.
I hated buying one so small, but you must understand a) I was very, very broke, and b) I was 100% sure he was going to die within days. My goal was just to give him a comfortable place to spend his last days, with clean, filtered, warm water.
I didn't even show him to my kid, but hid the tank on the back edge of my tall bedroom dresser, because I didn't want her to get attached to a fish that was about to die.
That night, after he'd been acclimated the temperature, I dropped him in the tank, gave him about five minutes, then fed him.
His last owner said he'd stopped eating months ago. I don't know how true that is, but I do know that bettas can usually survive for about 2-3 weeks without eating, and I do know that the guy didn't even have any fish food in his house.
So I didn't expect the fish to eat.
He ate, though. He didn't even hesitate.
A 1.5 gallon is much too small, but in this case, it actually helped at first. He really struggled to move, because he was sick, emaciated, and his muscles had undoubtedly atrophied from not being able to move in the tupperware bowl for God knows how long.
I turned on the tank light and took a really close look at him, now that the water was clear and I could actually see him.
Here's what I saw:
1. His colors were dull and muted. I could barely see the difference between the red on the bottom and the blue on the top.
2. He was incredibly thin and emaciated. With the light on him, I could literally see his spine. I didn't even know that was possible in a betta.
3. His fins were clamped together, and seemed to make it even harder for him to get around. The way he struggled with using them made it look like a neurological condition.
4. He had popeye in both eyes.
5. His gills were red and inflamed, and he was breathing heavily all the time.
6. His mouth and lips were grotesquely swollen, I was actually surprised he was able to eat at all.
It looked bad. I was so sure he wasn't going to make it.
I hadn't gotten any fake plants or decorations, but I grabbed a betta hammock the next day so he could rest near the surface and breathe comfortably.
And I just fed him, did 50% water changes every other day, and waited for him to pass. I didn't think I'd have to wait long.
After 3 or 4 days, though, he was vastly improving. He was spending less time on his hammock, and more time swimming around, nosing around the gravel or making circles around the uplift tube of his filter. He got tired easily, but he was breathing easier and his popeye was better.
So I sprang for a couple of soft fake plants and put them in, to give him stimulation. And he continued to improve.
Finally, I decided to move him out of his hiding spot and tell my kid about him. I named him Grim, because the swollen mouth gave him a permanent frowning, grumpy face.
But he's happy, and he's enjoying life, and he continues to improve every day.
Comments
Post a Comment