Tales from the Bark Side

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, April 5, 2008

Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail where the snow has been melting away very much like the wicked witch of the west (or was it east?) from the Wizard of Oz.

Waiting for spring to come has been like climbing a steep hill in an automobile that hasn't enough horsepower to make it without the motor laboring horribly; come on baby, you can do it. Sometimes it feels like the more you want something to happen, the slower it comes to fruition.

This week, I'm going to go a different direction from our four and two legged friends and explore the logic vs. instinct characteristics of — ready for this — tropical fish. I know more than a few fishermen (and lady fishers too) will attest to the cunning and guile of walleyes, northern pike, bass, and the all too elusive rainbow trout. This column is not about game fish; it's about those diminutive darlings that we spend so much money for and all they do is stare back at you in amazement and wonder. Do they reason?

Besides having eight pure-bred barkers, we happen to have a 55-gallon fish tank in that pie slice under the stairs that usually is considered wasted space in most homes or used as a storage space or a closet.

My step-son, Jake, is a very accomplished carpenter and he not only cut open the wall into which the fish tank sits, but he built an oak cabinet under it too. We can look through the tank to the next room and it is a real joy to sit and watch the little fishies swimming back and forth doing their thing.

When Cindy (my wife) and I moved back here from California in 2002, we brought a 20-gallon fish tank one-third full of water and several fish. This is before we were Rosswood Kennels. In no time, we were up and running and had our favorite fish acclimated to their new environment.

I name just about everything that walks, crawls, swims and locomotes in any fashion. This trait I have inherited from my father. In my mind, it makes sense to call them something, and the more creative the name, so much the better.

I tend to believe that tropical fish are 90-percent instinct and maybe 10-percent logic. A plecostomus is an algae eater or algae sucker and our rather large male was named Plucky (sounds much better than Sucky).

Along with Plucky was an albino corydoras named Al (as in bino). We bought several small angel fish, which in time grew to a fairly good size. I named the female fish male names because it's hard to tell the difference at an early age. So, there we were with female fish with masculine names exhibiting behaviors that sure looked like they were using logic.

Presently, we are down to just one (rather large) angel fish and his name is Sue, who swims over to the top of the tank when I walk up to feed him and the rest of the other aquatic clan.

Is he conditioned to come over or has Sue figured it out all on his own? All the other game fish I've come in contact with see me and head for deeper waters. Sue will follow my finger if I drag it close to the side of the tank. He is so obedient.

Albino Corydoras (catfish) are basically blind, and watching Al bump into things inside the tank is relatively humorous. He would propel himself to the surface and collide with whatever was near at the time. Al hung around with his best buddy, Plucky, and used him as his “seeing eye Plecostomus.”

The two were inseparable. Both of them have moved on (a burial at sea is what we call the fast lane down the toilet) and just the thought of them makes me wonder how much reasoning they possessed.

Whether they have reasoning skills or not, I believe tropical fish have therapeutic powers that do mellow out a person if they sit there long enough.

If you have a tale concerning the intelligence of fish, e-mail me at info@rosswoodkennels.com or write to me at Keith Alan Ross, Richville MN 56576 or phone me at 218-495-2195.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his home in New York Mills.