Traumatised !
Wait. It's not the fish.
It's us.
When dad first inherited them ; it was a pair. One in red and the other in yellow. A beautiful set of Araipaimas. Bred in Muar for the last 15-18 years, someone had to take over the responsibility of the care giver and it went to dad; quite naturally.
The first trauma was when we had to transport them up from Muar which took a team of 3 big men; a self-made to size wooden container, a large door grill and tons of ice. Not having seen light per se as they had been hiding under darkness all their life; I squirmed at the thought of looking at them when they drained the water out of the original pond. But to our pleasant surprise, it was a sight to behold.
Now, the men had to employ sack cloths to cover them and carry them into the container after which tons of ice and water were poured in to keep them under control. Next the grill was put on top of a cover over the container to prevent them from hopping out.
The 3 hour journey was their maiden trip out of town and I salute the men for successfully pulling them through the journey in one piece.
On arrival, more men had to chip in to put them into a specially constructed pond for their survival and comfort. They lived together in peace but only for a while. They were foul-tempered and were agitated when they got into each other's way.
Poor dad ; sometimes I call him the coolie of the house, had to resolve the problem of accommodating their movements and growing size. So he decided that enlarging the pond would resolve the issue. So he diligently did it. That's when trauma no.2 happened.
In the process of enlarging the pond, the fishes had to go through disturbances and they were offended and angry. Just when the pond was at its final stage, the Red One feeling threatened virtually sprang out and hit itself violently against the edge of the pond. We lost it. Traumatised, I screamed at the boys then and shouted insanely; but alas dad was out of town and for all the instructions received over the phone, we could not save it.
The gazebo and the large pond was ready ; but now only the Yellow One was left to enjoy it.
Bright-coloured, it surely exhibits its fury and short-temper when it squeezes itself in between vacant spots and many a time found itself out of the pond like this:
Whenever it landed itself outside the pond ; the girls would be screaming out their lungs and you would think a tsunami was on the way. Dad's employee; Aris would be contacted and he would appear out of nowhere and with that faithful sack cloth, the fish would again be released into its rightful place. Nightmare. So afraid it would lose its life when out of the water, we had to "water' it to keep it hydrated ; only to learn from reading that the specie can actually survive without water for a good six months ! But still, we choose not to believe the reading...
How do you then solve this problem? You have to be smarter than the fish? God did not create man to be under the lordship of a fish!
Dear dad has to be put on the thinking cap again. So he constructed a barricade panelling covering a part of the pond making it now difficult for the Yellow One to show off its prowess.
Trapped under the panelling, it now has less opportunity to slide its way around. We often wondered why it needed to leave its abode. Was it because the predator had plans for its next meal nearby?
Residing next to it, are the smaller ones; was it thinking about having a sumptuous meal? The thought is abnoxious and we can never allow it to happen.
But last week as reported by Esther, we had the largest scare ever ! It's normal to see the Yellow One with its mouth wide-opened leaped for his meal whenever offered; be it bread, fishes... Esther showing off to housemate from Melbourne did the normal offer but this time the Yellow One reacted differently.
It lost its eating prowess, sprang around in huge jumps never witnessed before and limped in this manner. Esther feeling guilty at her feeding spree called dad and friends and the instruction was not to allow it to turn as seen above. But it did exactly that was not allowed. I thought it was time to go ; so old already...25 years or more?
With a little prayer, I cajoled it with a pole to see if I could persuade it to rest on its stomach instead and it did just that !
So the Yellow One did not leave us.
Relieved.
Grace in panicky calls wanted confirmation that the Yellow One was still with us.
"Ma, why didn't you pick my calls? Is the fish still alive? Ma !"
The trauma of the Red One leaving us was still lingering in our memories.
Esther, if you are still feeling bad, rest assured as this shot was taken 30 minutes ago and the Yellow One is still alive and kicking. So don't worry; be happy.
Grace, see for yourself if still in doubt.
This tortoise is the constant companion to the Yellow One. Earlier on we had a 22 year old one which died a couple of years ago to be replaced by this one; at the courtesy of Pn Aw. So it is indeed a delight to see the giant and the dwarf living side by side in peace and harmony each day. They are good friends and are disturbed when either one suffers from trauma.
The predator would eat anything that comes along its way but never its good companion, the tortoise.
Traumas of life.
And jokes aside, I am now confused. Red or Yellow? They now look the same. Esther says I am colour blind. Am I? Am I?
