I was rather fanatical about keeping the tank clean, so I bought a sucker fish. He was a great little housekeeper, mouthing his way silently along the glass surface. As he grew and grew, never complaining about his lot in life, I became quite fond of him. Over the four or five years that we had the tank, fish would die, only to be replaced by others. But that sucker fish -- he just kept doing his job.
When the last fish died, I decided my tank cleaning days were over. The sucker fish still thrived, so when a local fish store offered him a new home, I gladly dropped him off. Okay, not so gladly. Do you know, I actually cried when they slipped him into his new tank? Man, sometimes I just get too emotional.
I'll never venture back into the world of fish and aquariums, but I could surely be tempted by some of these:
I'm not too sure how this works, but wouldn't it freak out your friends when they came to visit? And think of the convenience when it comes time to dispose of the dead fish (Note: we always buried our fish. Flushing seemed so ... so disrespectful).
This aquarium is suspended from the ceiling. I have no idea how you'd clean it, but I don't recommend it to anyone living in an earthquake zone.
This is the coolest aquarium. Impossible to clean, but so much fun for the fish. Hmm ... can fish even have fun?
You know how fish don't like it when the side of their tank is tapped? With this, what happens when you have a party, and everyone is setting down their glass? Your fish would most likely become nervous wrecks, cowering from the creatures hovering over the table.
All pets are high maintenance in one way or another, or at least, they should be. As much as we love 'em, there will always be aspects of their care that drive us nuts. With my cat, Meeko, it's the 5:00 a.m. wake up call she gives me. She'll begin kneading my head if knocking things off my bedside table doesn't work. That's still better than sticking my hands into a fish tank, and cleaning poop out of the gravel.
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