This past weekend Dr. Wife and I visited our new home and checked on the koi.  We had unseasonably warm weather, which raised the water temperature just north of 60 degrees Fahrenheit.  That was just enough for the koi to come up when I spread (too much) food across the surface of the pond.

We did not get any pictures—d’oh!—but it looks like we have four or five existing koi in the pond:

• A bluish one that Dr. Wife named Cobbler
• A classic white and orange koi (Sherbet)
• A white-ish one
• One that seems black-and-yellow, although this might be Cobbler as well at a different angle
• A more strikingly orange-reddish one

We also saw two or possibly three of the original population of ten rosy red minnows coming up to feed.  The others might have been hanging out below—or may have ended up as a snack for the hungry koi.  Gulp!

We did not see Milkshake or Brownie, the two younger koi we introduced the prior weekend.  I consulted with Microsoft’s CoPilot AI, which seemed to think that the two babies were playing it safe and resting down below.  That said, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

We left Saturday excited to have seen the koi, but I had a nagging sensation in the back of my head about Milkshake and Brownie.  I didn’t dwell on it much, but we went back to the house Sunday after church to drop off some things.  I scattered (much less) food, as the water temperature was still around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, even as the warm weather was quickly giving way to a brisk polar wind.  No koi came up this time, so we reasoned that the koi was still full from yesterday’s feeding and chilling out.

We proceeded to unload a few things and check on the mail.  Right before we left—Dr. Wife to head back to North Carolina for another week, and I to Lamar—I decided to check the biofilter for the pond to remove any gunk.

When I removed the lid, my heart sank, as I saw a scum-covered adolescent koi in the filter basket.  I said, “Oh, no,” in a low voice; Dr. Wife immediately said, “What, what?” anxiously.

It was Milkshake.  S/he was so covered in pond scum, I briefly thought it was Brownie, until I saw the tell-tale heart-shaped marking on its left side.

I told Dr. Wife not to look, and I removed the poor little fish from the filter.  The most disturbing part was seeing its little eye, once full of life, now a cold, still white.

Then I noticed another koi—Brownie.  It, too, was dead.

I placed both fish gingerly together.  Dr. Wife found a plastic bag, and I made a long, slightly stinky drive to PetSmart to obtain a refund for the fish.

I consulted with CoPilot later—had I placed the fish too close to the filter, which sucked them in?  Had I done anything wrong?  CoPilot—which, to be fair, tends to avoid ever blaming the user for anything—essentially said that it was likely the stress of transfer, as well as the sometimes subpar fish at PetSmart.  The two fish had been at PetSmart for awhile in a tiny tank, and even though the pond was an upgrade, the shift was likely too much for them.

It also assured me that such deaths are common for any pond keeper, and that even sick fish would have the strength to swim out of the current of a gentle biofilter.

Such is life.  Dr. Wife and I really working hard to be good stewards of this little pond.  We’ve decided not to try introducing any new koi until the weather is warmer, and then only to purchase them from professional dealers, like Fishy Business.

That said, last night I received some ramshorns snails to introduce to the pond tonight!  I purchased these snails from eBay of all places.  Ramshorns are a bit different than Japanese Trapdoor Snails (which I’ll purchase in the future from Fishy Business)—they lay eggs, so there is a risk of overpopulation, but the existing koi population should take care of that.  Like the JTSs, the ramshorns are cold-hardy, and CoPilot assured me that a cold weather is not detrimental, but is actually beneficial for the snails.

We’ll see how they do!  Like the rosy reds, I don’t expect every snail to survive, but enough should make it that they’ll start eating the algae and biofilm in the pond—and hopefully start to clear up some of the murky water.

The cycle of life and death continues in the pond, like an endless ballet.  My earnest hope is that Dr. Wife and I can build a thriving, balanced ecosystem—and enjoy our koi for many years to come!

Rest in peace, Milkshake and Brownie. : (