What
happened
almost 20 years ago that left a telltale sign on our dining room
ceiling? What secret was Carol hiding behind her bedroom door? This
is a story of lessons learned, the hard way.
I
have to admit I’ve
never been especially fond of animals. I am definitely not in favor
of animals in my house. Why would I bring something into my house
that has the potential to create problems? In my opinion, any reward
that comes from having a pet in the house is not worth the trouble it
brings.
My
daughter, Carol,
loves animals. It was her heart’s desire to have a pet in the
house. Over the years we’ve had lots of cats and dogs, but they
were strictly outdoor pets. Our dogs had a deluxe two-room dog house.
The cats have a two-story barn for shelter.
Eventually,
when
Carol was a teenager she wore me down and I allowed her to have fish
in her bedroom. Fish seemed like a low impact, low maintenance type
of pet. Carol got a variety of 8 tropical fish and put them in a 10
gallon tank. The tank was on a shelf about 4 1/2 feet off the floor.
Carol loved her fish as much as anyone can love a fish. She named
them things like Sonny and Cher, and Elvis and Priscilla. The fish
were fine and everything was going swimmingly for a while.
Then
came time to
clean the tank. I suggested her older brother, Paul, could help.
Carol refused his help. She wanted to prove she could take care of
her pets on her own. I should have followed Carol up to her room
whether she wanted me there or not. I used poor judgement and stayed
in the kitchen where I was finishing up washing dishes. Carol headed
upstairs alone with complete confidence she could accomplish the
task. Carol’s plan was to move the fish into a small bowl and
then carry the tank to the bathtub where she would empty some of the
water. To Carol, it seemed like a workable plan. The execution of the
plan did not go as planned.
Carol
did not expect the tank to be so heavy as she inched it off the
shelf. Every gallon of water weighs 8 pounds, plus the weight of the
gravel and the tank itself would have made the whole thing about 110
pounds. No wonder Carol lost her grip. The tank came down and
shattered over her knee, flooding the carpet with water, broken
glass, and gravel. I heard the crash and raced up the stairs to find
Carol standing in a puddle of water and debris. Her arms were
outstretched as if she were still holding the tank. There was a
moment of shocked silence as we both faced the harsh reality of what
had just happened.
Carol
broke the
silence, “Should’ve asked Paul to help whether he wanted
to or not.”
“Should've
let
you have a dog in your room.”
There
was no time to
lose. The carpet was saturated and we needed to clean up before too
much water soaked through. Each piece of broken glass and gravel were
painstakingly picked up and put into buckets. The water was soaked
up with towels, rags, and anything absorbent - even old maxi pads
were used. We stuck them to the bottoms of our feet and marched
around the room. I turned on fans and aimed them at the wettest
spots. It took several days of using fans to finally get the carpet
dry. We must have done a pretty good job. The only telltale sign is
the spot on the dining room ceiling. So much for assuming fish are
low impact pets. The low impact pets left a lasting impact on the
ceiling.
Obviously,
Carol and
I really didn’t know the correct way to clean a fish tank. My
husband, Bob, would have known, but he was away at work for the day.
He would have known to siphon off water first. As it was, he didn’t
even know the fish were in Carol’s room. Not wanting to risk
his disapproval, we bought the fish and set up the tank without his
knowledge. A 10 gallon tank of fish is a hard thing to hide, but
Carol’s father stayed out of her room most of the time. I
suppose there are worse things a teenage girl could be hiding in her
bedroom. A tank of fish seemed like an innocent secret behind Carol’s
closed door. All was well and the fish lived their secret lives
peacefully until that fateful day when the tank needed to be cleaned.
In
the aftermath of
the crash the 8 fish survived but had to adjust to life in new homes
- first in a large repurposed pretzel container, and then in a brand
new tank. As for Carol’s father, he was left wondering about
the suspicious spot on the ceiling. He didn’t find out the
whole story until I spilled the beans long after Carol grew up and
moved out. I figured the statute of limitations would protect me from
blame. It was time to confess. It was time to clear my conscience.
But time doesn’t erase all blame, just as time hasn’t
erased the spot on the ceiling. Once the secret was out, Bob said
he’d always figured the toilet had overflowed. Lesson learned -
don’t keep secrets from your husband, or father, not even
innocent secrets like fish in a bedroom.
This
story has a happy ending, not so much for the house with its spot on
the ceiling, but for Carol and her love of animals. When she moved to
her first apartment she adopted her beloved cat, Jewels. When Jewels
passed away, Carol adopted Stella, and then Ernie. The dogs
impact her house with joy every day. They are her heart’s
desires. For Carol, the reward of pets in her house far outweighs any
trouble they might bring.
When
Carol pays me a
visit, her dogs are welcome. My heart has softened and I see the
reward of their presence in my house. They are like medicine to lift
spirits and calm nerves. Thank you, Stella and Ernie, for showing me
the reward.
We
still have no
indoor animals, except the stuffed kind, and the unwelcome snakes in
the basement. Yes, garter snakes in the basement, but that’s
another story. (See my story - “Don’t Ask, Don’t
Tell”)
Contact
Patricia (Unless
you
type
the
author's name in
the subject
line
of the message we
won't know where to send it.)
