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I should have 'mug' tattooed on my forehead...
I got jumped. We dashed out this morning, got all the bits and pieces we need for christmas--food and such, veggies, meat. Great. Then we thought we'd nip out and get a new heater for the fishtank.
So in we toddles to the local aquatic emporium.
I used to run 13 tanks, breed several different species of cichlid--most of the tanks held either breeding stock or young fish--but ran most of the tanks down after it stopped being fun, due to all the hard work involved, and a couple of really nasty disasters (with heaters, funnily enough).
Anyway.
New heater. New bit for the automatic lights on the tank.
Six neon danios and a pair of Kribs. (I cannot resist cichlids, and I had the tank space...so... you know.)
Got talking to a member of staff we'd got to know pretty well when we had all the tanks going. Was telling her why I quit nursing, and when she heard that I did miss working with the occasional reptile her ears pricked up.
"Would you," she asked, "take on a very poorly terrapin...?"
He was attacked by one of the others in the holding tank, and holy crap he's in a state. Quarter of his shell is missing, and he's only a hatchling. His chances are poor at best, but in the shop? They're zero.
...
I've got a little set up going, and we're off to the vets in a few minutes. Provided the wounds don't go into the body cavity itself, he's got a chance.
Poor little sod.
So--provided we get a green light from the vet, and I'm only asking the bloody vet because he's going to need antibiotic injections and things an ex-nurse can't get over the counter--guess who's going to be spending the next God-alone-knows-how-long tube feeding a terribly ill terrapin?
I'm sort of looking forward to it--but there's a really good chance I'm going to get my heart broken. Dammit. I'm such a sucker.
Keep your fingers crossed for the poor little bugger. He's going to need all the luck he can get.
I got jumped. We dashed out this morning, got all the bits and pieces we need for christmas--food and such, veggies, meat. Great. Then we thought we'd nip out and get a new heater for the fishtank.
So in we toddles to the local aquatic emporium.
I used to run 13 tanks, breed several different species of cichlid--most of the tanks held either breeding stock or young fish--but ran most of the tanks down after it stopped being fun, due to all the hard work involved, and a couple of really nasty disasters (with heaters, funnily enough).
Anyway.
New heater. New bit for the automatic lights on the tank.
Six neon danios and a pair of Kribs. (I cannot resist cichlids, and I had the tank space...so... you know.)
Got talking to a member of staff we'd got to know pretty well when we had all the tanks going. Was telling her why I quit nursing, and when she heard that I did miss working with the occasional reptile her ears pricked up.
"Would you," she asked, "take on a very poorly terrapin...?"
He was attacked by one of the others in the holding tank, and holy crap he's in a state. Quarter of his shell is missing, and he's only a hatchling. His chances are poor at best, but in the shop? They're zero.
...
I've got a little set up going, and we're off to the vets in a few minutes. Provided the wounds don't go into the body cavity itself, he's got a chance.
Poor little sod.
So--provided we get a green light from the vet, and I'm only asking the bloody vet because he's going to need antibiotic injections and things an ex-nurse can't get over the counter--guess who's going to be spending the next God-alone-knows-how-long tube feeding a terribly ill terrapin?
I'm sort of looking forward to it--but there's a really good chance I'm going to get my heart broken. Dammit. I'm such a sucker.
Keep your fingers crossed for the poor little bugger. He's going to need all the luck he can get.
