Poor Lonely Li'l Fishy

You probably can't see the tiny molly in the nursery. He's in there for a reason. The four terrible tetras want to eat him up.

The tetras were the first to move into the new, spacious aquarium. They loved looking at their reflections in the glass walls and hanging out in the weeds and near the bubbling pump. It soon seemed like the aquarium could accommodate a few more fish, so my husband bought two mollies. 

When one of them became pregnant, we realized we had one of each. As soon as the babies were born, the tetras gobbled up all of them, except for one. The Founding Father Fish soon died of a broken heart, but not before impregnating the female once again.  This time, Phil was ready.  As soon as the second batch of babies was born, he sequestered them and their larger sibling in a plastic Dream Whip container, which he anchored precariously to the top of the aquarium. This was a temporary arrangement at best, as the container was always threatening to tip over. 

Then our older daughter saw an ad for a nifty baby-fish nursery--made of course, in China. Phil ordered it, assembled it, and anchored it securely (he thought) to the side of the aquarium, near the top.  Alas, he woke one morning to find the nursery at the bottom of the aquarium and the baby fish at large. What remained of the second batch, that is. About six of the twelve were left, plus Big Brother. 

He corrected his anchoring mistake and this time the nursery stayed put.  However, the near-death experience must have traumatized the babies, which began dying one by one.  The mother fish died too.  "I, alone of my kind, am here to tell the tale," says the survivor from the first batch, swimming about in his netted enclosure.