Bullying is making waves in fish tank mansion

People on the bus have started asking me why they haven’t had any updates on the successors to my famous goldfish Eric, who sadly passed away some months ago leaving a big hole in my life.

Or rather, a big bowl. A very expensive bowl as it happens. Despite investing in a vast and luxurious aqua cabinet, complete with dual filters and ultra-violet lights, things haven’t been going that smoothly.

The new occupants, Eric 2 and Ernie, have been right niggly as they say round here. They don’t seem to appreciate my efforts in getting rid of the brown algae that plagued the newly established marine environment.

This left the playing field open to an invasion of green algae, which was cured by introducing several zebra snails, which arrived in the post wrapped in damp cotton wool in a matchbox. Internet shopping is amazing! Having gorged on algae, the snails of course exhibit bad toilet habits, causing a surge in ammonia, which is dealt with by adding the delightfully named Stress Zyme, which is a sort of pooh-eating bacteria. Nice!

Despite now living in the fish equivalent of the Dorchester, Eric 2 has taken to fits of bullying, sending poor Ernie into the shelter of the copious greenery installed into this veritable mansion of a fish tank. Google says this is jealousy due to over-feeding or under-feeding so that’s not much help. Normally the two have a peaceful bromance, pootling round cheek by jowl like some sort of reduced synchronised swimming team.

Then Eric 2 goes electric, stabbing at his bro and nipping his fins.

Poor Ernie emerges bruised and battered and not in a deliciously golden crispy way! He even loses some of his bronzed sparkle. (They are bronze fish, rather than goldfish). There’s only one thing for it. It’s onto the naughty step for Eric 2.

This consists of a completely bare glass globe, no weed, no mermaid figurines and no bubbling windmill ornaments. Just glass and water!

Forty-eight hours of continuous featureless circumnavigation seems to quell his inexplicable anger, and back together they go, as good as gold (or bronze).

I’ve introduced a third occupant, a very patient conventional goldfish, fairground style.

He just plods about, ignoring the other two’s filial shenanigans, occasionally being knocked sideways when things get too much into piranha mode.

He gets most of the food as the other two are often more interested in pugilistic activities than gourmet experiences.

When he first arrived, I called him Adolf as he sported a little black toothbrush moustache. But maybe that was just for Movember as the moustache has completely disappeared.

I’ve now renamed him/her Huckleberry Fin, which is handily gender non-specific. You can never tell with goldfish.

Which reminds me. The other thing that I learnt on Google is that the fighting behaviour might be mating. Ernie might be Ernestine.

Who knows, I might come back from my forthcoming long weekend on the Isle of Wight to find a shoal of little Erics and Ernies swimming about!

Ralph Oswick was artistic director of Natural Theatre for 45 years and is now an active patron of Bath Comedy Festival