So today I wanna talk about something rough, you guys. That fish tank question kept eating at me – why DID Chubbs actually die? I’d had that little dude for ages, right? Saw him swimming every darn morning while waiting for my coffee to brew. Felt like a piece of furniture. Then one Tuesday… poof. Gone. Tank looked emptier than my bank account pre-payday.
The Search Starts
First thing I did? Panicked. Full-blown “where’s-my-phone-while-holding-it” energy. Checked everywhere around the tank:
- Scraped fingers behind the cabinet
- Checked under nearby plants (fake ones, thankfully)
- Peered into the filter tubes like a lunatic
Nothing. Felt like losing car keys but way worse. Fish don’t just teleport, man. Started doubting my own eyes.
The Dirty Truth
Took me three days to find him. Three! Was cleaning out my clunky old canister filter – thing was rumbling louder than my stomach before lunch. Pulled out the main sponge… and bam.
- There he was. Tucked deep in the intake tube.
- Crammed upside down, fins all torn up.
- Tail looked shredded. Just… awful.
Heart sank like a rock. Felt stupid too. How didn’t I think to check the filter first? That intake current was always sneaky strong.
Picking Up the Pieces
Finished tearing down the whole tank after that. Couldn’t look at it anymore. Sold the equipment cheap just to get it outta my sight. Packed up the gravel, lights, everything.
Weirdest part? Took me weeks to stop automatically walking to the tank spot every morning. Muscle memory’s a jerk. That empty corner felt like a missing tooth you keep poking with your tongue. Couldn’t ignore it.
Learned the hard way: cover those filter intakes, people. Doesn’t matter if your fish seems smart. Currents suck, literally. Save yourself the heartache. Ended up costing me way more than just one fish.
