Syphoniera
Fish Herder
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- Sep 8, 2008
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When I first saw Graffiti at my usual LFS, I actually thought he was rather ugly, having a sort of fleshy colour to his body, relatively colourless, blotchy fins, and a sort of asymmetrical finnage I disliked where the caudal fin was shorter than the others.
He was also much more expensive than various of the other, more attractive-looking bettas of various types surrounding him, being sold as a half-moon who would actually have been if not for an unfortunately directed curving outside ray on his tail.
But he somehow seemed like such a NICE fish I bought him anyway, knowing that once he was settled into the family, he'd be beautiful to me.
The odd thing is, he really did become so: while he was still floating in his bag, as he began to warm within the heated water of his tank, green iridescence began to appear on his body and over time he acquired glorious colour everywhere, fins and all.
The pleated shape and movements of his tail as he swam always made me think of an ethnic dancer, although I can't currently recall whether it was the Greeks, or possibly some Slavic group, where the men folk-dancing wore short, colourful, pleated skirts, somehow without looking at all effeminate.
His eyes were very large and always seemed strangely expressive, which probably accounted for a good deal of the impression of intelligence he gave.
But it was his temperament, his friendly interest, his character, that mattered beyond anything else.
He had the most equitable attitude, his approach unlike that of other fish hopeful of food, his awareness of human presence and his interest in people-watching completely different from the individual behaviours of my other bettas.
He was certainly active, swimming about, investigating among the plants, searching for potentially missed bits of food, bubblenesting, engaging in the usual betta activities.
But rather than ever lying down on the ground or elsewhere, he'd invariably perch 'standing' upright on the edge of his tail, little 'arms' hanging down by his side or resting on some object in the tank for all the world like a man leaning on a fence.
Poised in this attitude, he'd contemplate his reflection or, apparently, the movement of the water above, unless he'd notice me come in to sit on the bed, in which case he'd sometimes shift over to contemplate me.
I believe he also slept in that position, standing up.
I always wished I had a camera, watching him...
I'd originally had his ten gallon set up on the dresser across the room, but moved him to a position behind the head of the bed to have him close and where we could more easily watch each other.
He was really almost more like an aquatic dog or cat than a fish.
I planned to upgrade him to a 15 gallon done as a Walstad, giving him more room and interest, and shifting it (on the sturdy wooden wheeled stand on which I set it up) over to the space which his ten gallon currently occupied, in order to keep him nearby.
Apart from anything else, the (non-Walstad) tank he was in had loose edges on the sealant, where cyanobacteria was trapped and crept out, creating a chronic problem from which I wanted him removed.
I had in the meantime acquired other new fish, including 6 Harlequins intended to be Graffiti's tankmates (along with some pygmy cats I planned to add whenever I could finally obtain them, preferably prior to Graffiti's actual installment) choosing to quarantine them in his new tank as the conditions were ideal for encouraging their recovered health once the various disease issues they'd arrived with had been cleared up.
Unfortunately, an odd black coating (apparently a fungus, as results showed) on some areas of some of their fins, was unaffected by any treatment administered over the ensuing months, and this initially spread onto plants in the tank during the course of breeding behaviours involving the fish rubbing their bellies on leaves.
The affected plants (those with then broader leaves suitable for breeding use) only, despite the blackened leaves and rotting areas being promptly removed, gradually turned soggy brown, spreading from points of contact down, and died.
But the effect ceased to occur on the remaining plants, possibly because of the steady dosing of various antibiotics and antifungals within the tank itself, once the other disease issues had been cleared with other meds.
While I was as careful as possible to avoid contaminating any other tanks, the 15 gallon, Graffiti's intended future home, had been shifted relatively close to Graffiti's 10 gallon, so as to be easily moved over into that spot when the transfer was complete so that the 10 gallon could be shifted out, and a certain degree of splashing occurred during the frequent waterchanges conducted on the poor little Harleys next door to Graffiti.
I'd noticed he wasn't quite himself, attributing this in part to the disruption of frequent waterchanges and intensive, beneficial-bacteria-reducing cleaning periodically required on HIS tank to reduce the encroachment of cyanobacteria from beneath the inaccessible loosened sealant edges, (thin shreds wiped from the glass and elsewhere and escaping the paper towel/syphon used to remove it being drawn inside the filter - with the bacteria recirculated from there throughout the tank in endless cycle,) and to the potential for varying toxicity from the presence of the cyano itself, and I felt badly, as he should have been moved into his new tank long since, if all had gone well and his prospective tankmates been healthy.
Replanting with a forest of Water Wisteria had helped, but the 10 gallon evidently needed to be sterilized and the sealant redone, making it fit for use as the new quarantine tank.
When his flowing dorsal fin slipped one day from its usual position draped over his 'skirt' to display a black spot of fungus concealed by this, my heart almost stopped, as I knew how recalcitrant the fungus had already proven, and its inexorable progression as it ate through the top half of his tail toward his body did not appear limited by any of the wide range antibiotics, antifungals or other treatments used.
Graffiti worried me in other ways, as he'd swim directly into and remain within the clouds of any meds added to his tank, even fizzing tablets, and I was afraid of gill damage from undiluted chemicals.
Although over time it seemed progressively more likely to me either that they soothed or even that he somehow knew that these were intended to help save him, as I noticed he'd consistently bathe in the main stream of the meds I'd often feared might sting, while the guppy generally moved well away.
But while the same meds (anything potentially useful not yet tried which could be obtained and used in futile progression,) were administered to Graffiti, the Harley's and the stunted little female betta I'd bought (all from the same place) who still had lumpy black on her fins, no reduction in the fungus occurred in anyone, apart from possibly a certain small degree of improvement in the female betta's - although Graffiti was the only one to suffer not only his fins being eaten away (while the female regrew her extensions and improved in nearly all other ways) but the later appearance of large black lumps growing within, and progressively protruding from, his body.
It is entirely possible that the fungus contaminating his tank combined with genetic material from other organisms, as such occurrence has been noted among the various bacterial, fungal and viral pathogens frequently present among and preying upon cyano, and that the extreme results suffered by Graffiti would not likely occur in another tank without the specific cyano problem present in his.
Nonetheless, where splashing caused by waterchanges can infect fish in an adjoining tank with an apparently incurable condition potentially having such effects, it becomes evident that the fish involved, the beautiful little Harleys I fought so long, hard and expensively to try to cure, will also have to be put down, despite their evident vigor, brilliant colour and hearty appetites, and anything in the tank not possible to sterilize be discarded, so as to avoid potentially spreading this among other tanks and fish.
Typhoid Mary was a victim as much as those she infected...
I hope my little betta girl will be OK to live whatever length she may happily have in her little hex, which can be kept apart from other tanks - but it is possible that it's also been spread elsewhere, through my considering that some fish with faint black staining on their dorsal fins, the first bought (also from the same store as the others) with any blackening, had likely suffered ammonia burns in shipping (as I could not then think of any other, more likely, probable cause) and would recover best in another established, lightly stocked, planted tank, which held fish I've had for years.
I would strongly urge anyone purchasing fish with black fungal infections for rescue purposes to take extreme precautions in isolation and sterilization procedures.
There have been other instances of sometimes very widespread health issues among pets traced to large breeding/sales operations for various pet stocks, and the larger the operation, the greater the likelihood of such contagion being overlooked.
As the concentration of supply increases among these large, multinational petstock suppliers/shippers, so does the number of previously unusual, locally unexpected and therefore often generally unrecognizable illnesses potentially present in fish not only supplied from such sources, but exposed to them, as through shared water systems in pet stores.
As the situation worsened and the available meds left to try ran out, poor Graffiti could no longer rest on the remains of his tail in his accustomed manner, and he began to lie for extended periods on the gravel, generally in the corner nearest where I typically sat, anxiously examining him for some sign of miraculous improvement.
If he was elsewhere in the tank, he'd still come over to join me, once he noticed I was there, and eventually seemed to notice I often wanted to check the by then blackened end of his body, where the top half of his tail had been eaten away, so that when I was there, he would be either (as most often was the case) facing me, or apparently showing me, (sometimes rising from the ground and turning completely to resettle in the same place, as I peered to try to see,) the infection 'Mum' should have been able to clear - rather than lying sideways.
Black lumps appeared, initially in two places on his body, although he could still swim remarkably well at this point, and had a good appetite.
When the then-final attempt, Metro+, failed, silly or not, I apologized out loud to him, that there was nothing else to try and no hope left, and, coincidentally or not, he literally slumped from his position on the ground and apparently became depressed and I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
I've formed what is, I suppose, a rather pointless habit of often talking to my fish when I tend them, obviously not expecting any actual understanding or response - an extension, I expect, of having grown up around horses and having the importance drilled in from the time I was small of letting them know where one is, or calming them and showing affection, by verbalizing - it's disconcerting when there appears to be an appropriate response from a fish, especially under the circumstances.
Yet, if plants can register and respond to tones of voice and emotions, I suppose it's really more likely that fish can.
You wouldn't expect a fish to recognize the signs of somebody being upset, though, let alone relate it to their own condition, (apart from potentially picking up mental imagery, I suppose,) if indeed he somehow did.
There have been tons of experiments conducted regarding plant responses to human voices and emotions, but I don't recall hearing of any done on fish.
Although none of my other fish appear interested or at all responsive in this manner, and I've never had another fish remotely like Graffiti...
But when I decided to try a last-ditch combination not really recommended in a veterinary paper as it could be dangerous to the fish, as something to try when you don't know what you're treating, and I told him this, he immediately perked up.
Unfortunately, this also failed, although continued longer than recommended, until ingredients ran out, and all treatment then ceased as there was nothing left to try anymore and more black lumps appeared also, first on his head and then elsewhere on his body.
Near the end, as I went to feed, I saw he lay unmoving at my approach, and his gills showed no motion as I peered.
Mixed with the sorrow was a cowardly relief that at least I wouldn't have to put him down, but dropping bloodworms (guppy still eating, as well) over his head resulted in his abruptly rising to the surface for air and feeding - silly, how his continued existence and ability to perform the small things that made it possible for a little longer made my heart bound with relief, under the circumstances.
I knew I'd have to put him down the second-last night, but always did his waterchanges last, and once I'd done the others due that day, what I assume was psychological avoidance kicked in; I became very sleepy and unable to keep awake, so just gave him the change and put it off one more day.
On the second-last day, he'd lost his appetite and on the last, I don't think he could make the surface, at least I didn't see him try.
His eyes looked awful.
I told him, out loud, I'd help him sleep away the pain and I swear, it really seemed as though his expression changed.
(Not that I think he spoke English, or understood what tears are or anything like that, but he certainly seemed to somehow understand something and react with his expression seeming somehow round-eyed, if you know what I mean, and again I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.)
Rather than disturb him by dipping him out into the 'mercy pail' used for Clove oil in the last extremity, I lowered the water level in his tank and began to gradually add Clove oil mixed with water.
A stronger person would have stayed throughout to watch with him, but I didn't, only staying and returning to check for signs of additional discomfort in either him or the most beautiful of my guppies, who unfortunately shared his fate as he did his tank and exposure.
On my first return, Graffitti had moved away from the usual corner where he'd been watching me earlier, to support himself upright between the wall and the box filter, head toward the surface he couldn't quite reach as he once would have, when his tail was intact, so I further lowered the surface until he was able to.
As I checked and periodically added more Clove Oil, the poor little guppy( which had, I suppose for security as sleep began to overpower him, slipped in behind the box filter, which had been shut off but remained in the tank,) lowered gradually toward the ground, Graffiti quite possibly having passed by this point, with no agitation apparent in either, thank god.
It appeared to be as peaceful a passing for both parties as was possible to hope for.
Graffitti died upright, on the ruins of his once-magnificent tail, in the characteristic position in which I'll always remember him.
I could just howl.
I don't actually care how stupid it sounds, I particularly hate consigning him to the garbage - I wish I could at least have buried him in the yard.
He was no ordinary fish.
He stands alone in that sense, as well.
Requiem, Graffiti, in the sense of rest, quiet, peace.
It was all I had left to give.
And I'm so unbearably sorry it wasn't enough.
He was also much more expensive than various of the other, more attractive-looking bettas of various types surrounding him, being sold as a half-moon who would actually have been if not for an unfortunately directed curving outside ray on his tail.
But he somehow seemed like such a NICE fish I bought him anyway, knowing that once he was settled into the family, he'd be beautiful to me.
The odd thing is, he really did become so: while he was still floating in his bag, as he began to warm within the heated water of his tank, green iridescence began to appear on his body and over time he acquired glorious colour everywhere, fins and all.
The pleated shape and movements of his tail as he swam always made me think of an ethnic dancer, although I can't currently recall whether it was the Greeks, or possibly some Slavic group, where the men folk-dancing wore short, colourful, pleated skirts, somehow without looking at all effeminate.
His eyes were very large and always seemed strangely expressive, which probably accounted for a good deal of the impression of intelligence he gave.
But it was his temperament, his friendly interest, his character, that mattered beyond anything else.
He had the most equitable attitude, his approach unlike that of other fish hopeful of food, his awareness of human presence and his interest in people-watching completely different from the individual behaviours of my other bettas.
He was certainly active, swimming about, investigating among the plants, searching for potentially missed bits of food, bubblenesting, engaging in the usual betta activities.
But rather than ever lying down on the ground or elsewhere, he'd invariably perch 'standing' upright on the edge of his tail, little 'arms' hanging down by his side or resting on some object in the tank for all the world like a man leaning on a fence.
Poised in this attitude, he'd contemplate his reflection or, apparently, the movement of the water above, unless he'd notice me come in to sit on the bed, in which case he'd sometimes shift over to contemplate me.
I believe he also slept in that position, standing up.
I always wished I had a camera, watching him...
I'd originally had his ten gallon set up on the dresser across the room, but moved him to a position behind the head of the bed to have him close and where we could more easily watch each other.
He was really almost more like an aquatic dog or cat than a fish.
I planned to upgrade him to a 15 gallon done as a Walstad, giving him more room and interest, and shifting it (on the sturdy wooden wheeled stand on which I set it up) over to the space which his ten gallon currently occupied, in order to keep him nearby.
Apart from anything else, the (non-Walstad) tank he was in had loose edges on the sealant, where cyanobacteria was trapped and crept out, creating a chronic problem from which I wanted him removed.
I had in the meantime acquired other new fish, including 6 Harlequins intended to be Graffiti's tankmates (along with some pygmy cats I planned to add whenever I could finally obtain them, preferably prior to Graffiti's actual installment) choosing to quarantine them in his new tank as the conditions were ideal for encouraging their recovered health once the various disease issues they'd arrived with had been cleared up.
Unfortunately, an odd black coating (apparently a fungus, as results showed) on some areas of some of their fins, was unaffected by any treatment administered over the ensuing months, and this initially spread onto plants in the tank during the course of breeding behaviours involving the fish rubbing their bellies on leaves.
The affected plants (those with then broader leaves suitable for breeding use) only, despite the blackened leaves and rotting areas being promptly removed, gradually turned soggy brown, spreading from points of contact down, and died.
But the effect ceased to occur on the remaining plants, possibly because of the steady dosing of various antibiotics and antifungals within the tank itself, once the other disease issues had been cleared with other meds.
While I was as careful as possible to avoid contaminating any other tanks, the 15 gallon, Graffiti's intended future home, had been shifted relatively close to Graffiti's 10 gallon, so as to be easily moved over into that spot when the transfer was complete so that the 10 gallon could be shifted out, and a certain degree of splashing occurred during the frequent waterchanges conducted on the poor little Harleys next door to Graffiti.
I'd noticed he wasn't quite himself, attributing this in part to the disruption of frequent waterchanges and intensive, beneficial-bacteria-reducing cleaning periodically required on HIS tank to reduce the encroachment of cyanobacteria from beneath the inaccessible loosened sealant edges, (thin shreds wiped from the glass and elsewhere and escaping the paper towel/syphon used to remove it being drawn inside the filter - with the bacteria recirculated from there throughout the tank in endless cycle,) and to the potential for varying toxicity from the presence of the cyano itself, and I felt badly, as he should have been moved into his new tank long since, if all had gone well and his prospective tankmates been healthy.
Replanting with a forest of Water Wisteria had helped, but the 10 gallon evidently needed to be sterilized and the sealant redone, making it fit for use as the new quarantine tank.
When his flowing dorsal fin slipped one day from its usual position draped over his 'skirt' to display a black spot of fungus concealed by this, my heart almost stopped, as I knew how recalcitrant the fungus had already proven, and its inexorable progression as it ate through the top half of his tail toward his body did not appear limited by any of the wide range antibiotics, antifungals or other treatments used.
Graffiti worried me in other ways, as he'd swim directly into and remain within the clouds of any meds added to his tank, even fizzing tablets, and I was afraid of gill damage from undiluted chemicals.
Although over time it seemed progressively more likely to me either that they soothed or even that he somehow knew that these were intended to help save him, as I noticed he'd consistently bathe in the main stream of the meds I'd often feared might sting, while the guppy generally moved well away.
But while the same meds (anything potentially useful not yet tried which could be obtained and used in futile progression,) were administered to Graffiti, the Harley's and the stunted little female betta I'd bought (all from the same place) who still had lumpy black on her fins, no reduction in the fungus occurred in anyone, apart from possibly a certain small degree of improvement in the female betta's - although Graffiti was the only one to suffer not only his fins being eaten away (while the female regrew her extensions and improved in nearly all other ways) but the later appearance of large black lumps growing within, and progressively protruding from, his body.
It is entirely possible that the fungus contaminating his tank combined with genetic material from other organisms, as such occurrence has been noted among the various bacterial, fungal and viral pathogens frequently present among and preying upon cyano, and that the extreme results suffered by Graffiti would not likely occur in another tank without the specific cyano problem present in his.
Nonetheless, where splashing caused by waterchanges can infect fish in an adjoining tank with an apparently incurable condition potentially having such effects, it becomes evident that the fish involved, the beautiful little Harleys I fought so long, hard and expensively to try to cure, will also have to be put down, despite their evident vigor, brilliant colour and hearty appetites, and anything in the tank not possible to sterilize be discarded, so as to avoid potentially spreading this among other tanks and fish.
Typhoid Mary was a victim as much as those she infected...
I hope my little betta girl will be OK to live whatever length she may happily have in her little hex, which can be kept apart from other tanks - but it is possible that it's also been spread elsewhere, through my considering that some fish with faint black staining on their dorsal fins, the first bought (also from the same store as the others) with any blackening, had likely suffered ammonia burns in shipping (as I could not then think of any other, more likely, probable cause) and would recover best in another established, lightly stocked, planted tank, which held fish I've had for years.
I would strongly urge anyone purchasing fish with black fungal infections for rescue purposes to take extreme precautions in isolation and sterilization procedures.
There have been other instances of sometimes very widespread health issues among pets traced to large breeding/sales operations for various pet stocks, and the larger the operation, the greater the likelihood of such contagion being overlooked.
As the concentration of supply increases among these large, multinational petstock suppliers/shippers, so does the number of previously unusual, locally unexpected and therefore often generally unrecognizable illnesses potentially present in fish not only supplied from such sources, but exposed to them, as through shared water systems in pet stores.
As the situation worsened and the available meds left to try ran out, poor Graffiti could no longer rest on the remains of his tail in his accustomed manner, and he began to lie for extended periods on the gravel, generally in the corner nearest where I typically sat, anxiously examining him for some sign of miraculous improvement.
If he was elsewhere in the tank, he'd still come over to join me, once he noticed I was there, and eventually seemed to notice I often wanted to check the by then blackened end of his body, where the top half of his tail had been eaten away, so that when I was there, he would be either (as most often was the case) facing me, or apparently showing me, (sometimes rising from the ground and turning completely to resettle in the same place, as I peered to try to see,) the infection 'Mum' should have been able to clear - rather than lying sideways.
Black lumps appeared, initially in two places on his body, although he could still swim remarkably well at this point, and had a good appetite.
When the then-final attempt, Metro+, failed, silly or not, I apologized out loud to him, that there was nothing else to try and no hope left, and, coincidentally or not, he literally slumped from his position on the ground and apparently became depressed and I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
I've formed what is, I suppose, a rather pointless habit of often talking to my fish when I tend them, obviously not expecting any actual understanding or response - an extension, I expect, of having grown up around horses and having the importance drilled in from the time I was small of letting them know where one is, or calming them and showing affection, by verbalizing - it's disconcerting when there appears to be an appropriate response from a fish, especially under the circumstances.
Yet, if plants can register and respond to tones of voice and emotions, I suppose it's really more likely that fish can.
You wouldn't expect a fish to recognize the signs of somebody being upset, though, let alone relate it to their own condition, (apart from potentially picking up mental imagery, I suppose,) if indeed he somehow did.
There have been tons of experiments conducted regarding plant responses to human voices and emotions, but I don't recall hearing of any done on fish.
Although none of my other fish appear interested or at all responsive in this manner, and I've never had another fish remotely like Graffiti...
But when I decided to try a last-ditch combination not really recommended in a veterinary paper as it could be dangerous to the fish, as something to try when you don't know what you're treating, and I told him this, he immediately perked up.
Unfortunately, this also failed, although continued longer than recommended, until ingredients ran out, and all treatment then ceased as there was nothing left to try anymore and more black lumps appeared also, first on his head and then elsewhere on his body.
Near the end, as I went to feed, I saw he lay unmoving at my approach, and his gills showed no motion as I peered.
Mixed with the sorrow was a cowardly relief that at least I wouldn't have to put him down, but dropping bloodworms (guppy still eating, as well) over his head resulted in his abruptly rising to the surface for air and feeding - silly, how his continued existence and ability to perform the small things that made it possible for a little longer made my heart bound with relief, under the circumstances.
I knew I'd have to put him down the second-last night, but always did his waterchanges last, and once I'd done the others due that day, what I assume was psychological avoidance kicked in; I became very sleepy and unable to keep awake, so just gave him the change and put it off one more day.
On the second-last day, he'd lost his appetite and on the last, I don't think he could make the surface, at least I didn't see him try.
His eyes looked awful.
I told him, out loud, I'd help him sleep away the pain and I swear, it really seemed as though his expression changed.
(Not that I think he spoke English, or understood what tears are or anything like that, but he certainly seemed to somehow understand something and react with his expression seeming somehow round-eyed, if you know what I mean, and again I wished I'd kept my mouth shut.)
Rather than disturb him by dipping him out into the 'mercy pail' used for Clove oil in the last extremity, I lowered the water level in his tank and began to gradually add Clove oil mixed with water.
A stronger person would have stayed throughout to watch with him, but I didn't, only staying and returning to check for signs of additional discomfort in either him or the most beautiful of my guppies, who unfortunately shared his fate as he did his tank and exposure.
On my first return, Graffitti had moved away from the usual corner where he'd been watching me earlier, to support himself upright between the wall and the box filter, head toward the surface he couldn't quite reach as he once would have, when his tail was intact, so I further lowered the surface until he was able to.
As I checked and periodically added more Clove Oil, the poor little guppy( which had, I suppose for security as sleep began to overpower him, slipped in behind the box filter, which had been shut off but remained in the tank,) lowered gradually toward the ground, Graffiti quite possibly having passed by this point, with no agitation apparent in either, thank god.
It appeared to be as peaceful a passing for both parties as was possible to hope for.
Graffitti died upright, on the ruins of his once-magnificent tail, in the characteristic position in which I'll always remember him.
I could just howl.
I don't actually care how stupid it sounds, I particularly hate consigning him to the garbage - I wish I could at least have buried him in the yard.
He was no ordinary fish.
He stands alone in that sense, as well.
Requiem, Graffiti, in the sense of rest, quiet, peace.
It was all I had left to give.
And I'm so unbearably sorry it wasn't enough.
i'm so so sorry, sounds like Graffiti was an amazing little guy and it must be so hard for you x
Hugs to you and RIP Graffiti xxx
