Fish, fish, fish

I’m pretty sure fish are my spirit animal. I know that sounds weird at first. Most people would probably want something more terrifying or powerful, like a bear or  an elephant, or if it was water-based at least a shark. But I’m convinced that if spirit animals exist, mine would be fish. Not any particular kind of fish, but all fish in general.

I’ve grown up around fish tanks. My family has had everything from a simple beta bowl to spectacular salt water aquariums. I have spent a lot of time just watching our fish swim around. We’d call it “fish TV.” 

Leviathan

My own aquarium is currently at my mom’s house. In my apartment we can’t have fish tanks unless we’re on the first floor, which does make sense when it comes to the sheer weight and amount of water and possible floor/ceiling damage that fish tanks could cause if something was to happen. Unfortunately I’m on the third floor. But I absolutely adore my fish. Since I haven’t lived in the same house as my fish for a year, right now I just have a zebra danio and two plecos, affectionately named Kraken and Leviathan. Kraken is pushing thirteen inches in length and Leviathan isn’t too far behind. I love Kraken’s mermaid tail and Leviathan’s giant top fin. 

I dream of them, and of fish in general, all the time. I have lots and lots of dreams of shopping for fish, cleaning or setting up fish tanks, and visiting aquariums. I’d say I easily have at least two fish related dreams a month, on average.

Kraken, at an awkward angle, but still my pretty sea monster!

Not only are they beautiful, but they’re calming for me too. I enjoy watching them, and maintaining a fish tank is much like growing and maintaing a garden. When I first got Kraken, she must have been only two inches long, and Leviathan was even smaller. I gave them their names knowing the potential size they could reach, and watched over the years and they grew into large beautiful monsters that completely dwarf all the other tropical fish in my tank. 

Fish are not brainless creatures. While they may not have language or technology, they each have their own personalities, just like dogs or cats. A couple years ago I bought a small five gallon tank for my bathroom counter, which became home to a betta named Siddhartha. When I first got Siddhartha, he was very shy, and anytime someone so much as walked past he’d dart into the corner and hide behind the filter pump. 

I’d go sit by his tank and talk to him, even though he hid. “Hi, Siddhartha,” I’d say. I always talked to him when I was feeding him. Eventually,  he’d stop darting away when someone passed the tank. In the mornings I’d turn on his light and he’d come swimming out for breakfast. If I wanted to say hi throughout the day and he was sleeping in his hut, I’d call “Siddhartha,” and he’d swim out and come right up to the front. If I touched the front of my tank with my finger, he’d swim to meet it. Eventually he came out to greet me any time I walked into the bathroom.

My new friends!

I have very much missed not having a tank for the past year, so this morning I went out and got a small betta aquarium. It has a divider, so I was able to get two males! One has orange fins, with a dark body that gleams slightly purple in the light. The other one is teal and blue, with streaks of red and green running through his fins. Both are absolutely beautiful. I haven’t given them names yet, but I’m already getting to know their different personalities. The teal one is king of the tank. He spreads out his fins in a giant fan and swims around his half, and doesn’t seem too bothered by me, while the orange one has spent most of his day so far staying near the plant on his side. 

Having fish in my room makes me feel ten times more at home. Now I just need to find some fitting names for them.