Yep, something told me all was not right last evening. The filter should have been fine, since I went out into the freezing cold, pelting rain the other night to flush it out. All the same, as I passed by on the way back from the compost bin, I noticed pressure from the lion’s mouth was a bit less enthusiastic than it should have been. But it was cold out (right, in keeping with the “Insane Weather” theme this Spring, the high is going to be 90 degrees today, a mere 12 hours later), and I wanted a cup of hot tea and my New Yorker. Exciting Saturday evening, no?
This morning, I ventured forth to find a scant few inches in the bottom of the trough, the unmistakable smell of drying seaweed, and some distinctly worried-looking sarasa comets. The pump was running dry and, judging from the heat coming off of it, had been for some hours. I just hope there is no permanent damage.
A few notes on the lessons to be had this morning:
First, when the water return is outside the barrier of the feature, we must be doubly careful of its functional state. A tiny trickling leak can empty even a large feature overnight.
Second, and this is crucial, never EVER allow the pump to rest on the floor of a water feature. My fish only survived because I had situated the pump on top of a half cinder block. A burned out pump is one thing; dead fish through my negligence is another. Yes, in this case, every fish in the feature came out of the 25¢ feeder tank except that perversly vigorous black Moor, who refused to be caught in the Fall and by all rights should never have survived the Winter, let alone the early Spring ich outbreak I suffered this year from crazily fluctuating water temperatures). And yet…
I believe with all my heart that when you purchase a pet, no matter what the purchase price, you take on full moral and ethical responsibility for that animal’s welfare and quality of life. It only holds, logically. Do yourself a karmatic favor, and take this responsibility seriously. Whether it is a $5000 show dog, a $5 million dollar thoroughbred sire, a $5 fancy rat, or a 25¢ goldfish: each deserves a full measure of respect as a fellow creature.
Lesson three: if it had been a warm day, I might have lost the fish, anyway, due to heightened oxygen consumption. Good thing I didn’t sleep any later before the morning garden inspection. It’s warming up so fast today!
Lesson four is to remember to add the water feature to the checklist for your pet/house sitter when leaving town. I wasn’t this time. But a pump may fail in the Spring, Summer, or Fall; a de-icer may go out in the winter. You don’t want to come home to a solid block of ice and sushi waiting for you when the Spring thaw arrives. Trust me, it happens. It just takes a sec to check on the pond, and it could avert a tragedy.
And lesson five is to go with your gut. If you get a vibe that something is amiss, investigate it immediately, even if just to provide stop-gap measures until you have time to deal with it.
Gardening instincts may or may not be part of your genetic heritage. Some people are just touched by God in the womb with a knack for growing things, the legendary Green Thumb. For the rest of us, as with motherhood, instincts for trouble in the garden come with experience.
I once fished around for a dislodged pump intake hose in a formal evening gown and heels on the way to an opening night at the opera. Sure enough, I found my brand new baby koi hopelessly stuck headfirst in the strong suction of the half inch hose. He’d have been dead by morning. We have to carefully nurture the development of instincts and awareness.
Meanwhile, make a list–make a lot of lists. Start a garden journal to remind yourself to check whatever may need checking, whenever it may need checking. And keep yourself open to intuitive twinges. This is is an aspect of living in the moment in the garden and not living in your head, which usually means musing on future tasks and plans or running non-gardening problems through your mind. Which is fine most of the time, which is actually part of what gardening is about, synthesis, developing your marching orders, and all-purpose problem-solving.
But not during your morning inspection. And not on your last pass for the night before throwing in the towel. At these times, you are the constable, the watchman. Who watches the watchman? Your to do list and your garden journal watch the watchman!
Really fantastic information and photos about keeping koi, by the way, can be found at the How To Keep Koi blog here at WordPress.
Smirk has grown to a fabulous 18 inches in the goose boy fountain only because I wandered into the garden one night on the way to the opera.
The Dirty Lady's Garden Gazette 