I had seven golden tetras in my aquarium.
One jumped out one night, two succumbed to white-spot parasites, one just wasted away.
Last month, I had three left, swimming strong, flicking their tiny white tipped fins, the black spots on their tail a second eye.
Then suddenly after a weekend vacation, I returned to find only two.
Today while cleaning the aquarium filter, we rescued the third one. He’d been swimming around in a tiny whirling pool of perfect darkness, all by his lonesome self, for a month.
And now, as I type, he’s swimming around in all the light and green and water, just as if he had never been in solitary confinement.
Lesson in there somewhere.