- Joined
- Jul 3, 2009
- Messages
- 2
This is my confession and testament.
I have successfully kept a couple of Octopuses for at least a good chunk of their natural lifespan (9mos on a Bumblebee, about 6 on a an unidentifed Pacific breed, not at the same time) in an Octo-proof tank, with a couple of other fish that are learned in the art of not being seen.
After the demise of both the aforementioned, I had the opportunity to try and hatch a banded cat shark from an egg, which I accepted, and waited about 4mos for it to come to fruition, which it did, unexpectedly, the day before I added another (wonderful) Hummelienki(sp?) to the tank. The shark I planned to keep for about a year, before transplanting to a friend's much larger tank which is species appropriate.
My experience has led me to believe that what's in the tank on an Octo arrival, has a better chance of surviving (as long as its not egregious). I was correct until today.
Both have been successfully fed a combination of live/frozen food at the same time for about three months without bothering each other. I was duly impressed with myself.
However, today, I came home from work to find the little banded cat in the arms of the Kraken, which I fought for.
Now, I doubt many of you have ever fought an octo for food before (I haven't) but for the record, It's damn near impossible. Pulling as hard as I could, dislodging the shark wasn't going to happen without hurting the Kraken. We fought for about five minutes, he (or she) jetting me, inking and generally protecting her/his catch with a passion common only to the world of undersea dezinens.
Realizing the poor little shark, that had gotten along so well, was dead, I gave up, and let the meal commence, which consisted of only the eye, and a good gut shot.
I got the body back about an hour later, and the Kraken was still hungry enough for a couple of fiddlers.
On the larger front, I knew better, but thought my marine expertise and lucky streak could buck the prevailing wisdom. I lose. As does my little birthling shark.
I am sad, like Dr. Frankenstein exulting in a success that should have never been, and then hanging his head as he comes home to realize the bride has eaten the groom, happily.
And the Kraken has just begun a new patrol.
Had to tell someone...
I have successfully kept a couple of Octopuses for at least a good chunk of their natural lifespan (9mos on a Bumblebee, about 6 on a an unidentifed Pacific breed, not at the same time) in an Octo-proof tank, with a couple of other fish that are learned in the art of not being seen.
After the demise of both the aforementioned, I had the opportunity to try and hatch a banded cat shark from an egg, which I accepted, and waited about 4mos for it to come to fruition, which it did, unexpectedly, the day before I added another (wonderful) Hummelienki(sp?) to the tank. The shark I planned to keep for about a year, before transplanting to a friend's much larger tank which is species appropriate.
My experience has led me to believe that what's in the tank on an Octo arrival, has a better chance of surviving (as long as its not egregious). I was correct until today.
Both have been successfully fed a combination of live/frozen food at the same time for about three months without bothering each other. I was duly impressed with myself.
However, today, I came home from work to find the little banded cat in the arms of the Kraken, which I fought for.
Now, I doubt many of you have ever fought an octo for food before (I haven't) but for the record, It's damn near impossible. Pulling as hard as I could, dislodging the shark wasn't going to happen without hurting the Kraken. We fought for about five minutes, he (or she) jetting me, inking and generally protecting her/his catch with a passion common only to the world of undersea dezinens.
Realizing the poor little shark, that had gotten along so well, was dead, I gave up, and let the meal commence, which consisted of only the eye, and a good gut shot.
I got the body back about an hour later, and the Kraken was still hungry enough for a couple of fiddlers.
On the larger front, I knew better, but thought my marine expertise and lucky streak could buck the prevailing wisdom. I lose. As does my little birthling shark.
I am sad, like Dr. Frankenstein exulting in a success that should have never been, and then hanging his head as he comes home to realize the bride has eaten the groom, happily.
And the Kraken has just begun a new patrol.
Had to tell someone...