Well, friends, I have some shitty news.
If you’ve been following the increasingly unhinged saga of my accidental platy breeding operation, you know this whole thing began without much intention on my part. I bought some pretty little fish. The pretty little fish had sex. Then their children apparently decided waiting until adulthood was an antiquated social convention, and before I knew it I was operating an aquatic maternity ward and had roughly 37 people interested in taking home members of the resulting population explosion.
I had babies reserved. I had prices figured out. I had tanks labeled Nursery and Delivery Room. I had pregnant teenagers. I had snails behaving indecently. At some point this stopped being an aquarium and became a tiny underwater Florida.
Unfortunately, today the funny part stopped being funny.
White Panda died.
My beautiful little White Panda—the fish responsible for starting a substantial portion of this entire mess—developed what appears to have been ich, also called white spot disease.
We treated the tank as soon as I realized what was happening, but she didn’t make it.
And because ich is a parasite with a life cycle that includes stages we cannot see, I cannot tell you with certainty when it entered my aquarium, how long it has been here, or whether any fish currently looking perfectly healthy has been exposed.
That means I also cannot, in good conscience, hand one of these fish to somebody else and potentially introduce the same problem into their aquarium.
So, every reservation is canceled.
Nobody owes me anything. Nobody needs to contact me to ask whether their particular fish still looks okay. I’m not going to make exceptions because one is pretty, healthy-looking, already spoken for, or because somebody has been patiently waiting for it.
I’m keeping them. All of them.
I’ll care for the fish I have, deal with whatever is happening in my tanks, and enjoy the beautiful little assholes that remain—but I am officially retiring from platy farming.
Apparently my agricultural career lasted approximately five minutes.
And to everyone who reserved one: I’m sorry.
I’m especially sorry because so many of you were genuinely excited about these fish. I loved that other people wanted these weird little descendants of the fish I’ve been photographing, naming and bitching about for months.
But I’d rather disappoint 37 people today than give even one of you a fish that could bring a parasite into an established aquarium.
Please acquire your future platy from a better fucking farmer. 😂
Preferably someone whose business plan contains something more sophisticated than:
“OH LOOK, MORE BABIES.”
For anyone following this because you were simply invested in the ongoing Platy Brothel drama, don’t worry. The aquarium isn’t disappearing. There are still a few beautiful fish here, and they’re staying right where they are.
And among them are three of White Panda’s babies from her very first litter. 🐼
That means considerably more to me tonight than it would have yesterday.
Those three aren’t inventory anymore. They’re not $2 fish, they’re not part of a five-for-$7 deal, and they’re certainly not going anywhere.
They’re hers.
So this isn’t the end of the aquarium stories. Knowing these little bastards, I’m reasonably certain they will continue providing material whether I’ve requested it or not.
It’s only the end of me sending them out into the world.
The Platy Brothel is closed.
The remaining residents have been granted permanent asylum.
And somewhere in fish heaven, White Panda is probably still refusing to give birth on anybody else’s fucking schedule. 🐼🤍
Rest easy, little mama.
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