Due to my mistakenly purchasing a female Butterfy Ciclid (aka a Ram) a week-and-a-half ago, we now have about 100 to 150 eggs hatching in our aquarium.
Here’s the proud Papa, guarding the clutch.
And here’s a picture of the eggs at 48 hours old, when some of the fry are already starting to extend their tails and wiggle. (The white ones have gone ‘bad’, the developing ones are a yellow-grey color, with a dark speck in them.)
So, step on up and show us your “spawn.”
Fry photos, at 84 hours old. Look for the two eye spots. I see about 10 baby Rams in this picture.
Wish I could but our plecka (algea eater) seems to scarf up all the eggs. And what he doesn’t eat… the other fish do. Ew.
Great photos!
What kind of fish do you keep DJ, in addition to the egg-eating plecostomus.
I’ve had just about all kinds through the years – cold water, tropicals, brackish and salt water. This is my first foray into Ciclids.
As for the pics, it helps to have a professional quality digital camera, and a degree in photography. 😉
Goldfish. Mostly Shubunkins. A Comet we won at a carnival years ago and some fancy tails. 🙂
The Shubunkins are HUGE now and will eat from your hands… sometimes. Unless I tell a visitor they’ll eat from my hands and then while their’s an audience… they won’t. 🙂
All that “gunk” in the bowl is Daphnea, and some mashed egg yolk – their food. They’re about pinhead-sized: much, much smaller than they appear in the photo.
He is giving me a sidelong glance because he is anxious about what is going on behind me. The family is packing the car for a trip and he is worried that he might be left behind. He wasn’t. The kids gave him that Psycho Dingo Dog name because he was so hyper. He is more mature now and always comes when called, sits, and stays (sometimes).
My 3-yr-old grandson also worries about this, he is constantly saying:
“Don’t leave out me.”
Buster’s obviously not a pure Dingo if he sits and stays. 😉
Hell, mine barely sits and stays, and she’s got 4 thousand years of human controlled breeding behind her.
I visited a Dingo farm in Victoria, Australia last year. Dingos are very much wild dogs still, with none of the traits that distinguish canus familarus from its wild cousins. I’ll see if I can find the pics.
He has a big problem with ‘stay’ and ‘down.’ I heard that the ‘down’ command to a dog was like the ‘kneel’ command to a human. Coming when called was a joke for years. He used to take a run at us, make a wide circle and then go back to what he was doing. It was like his brakes wouldn’t work.
I would love to see photos of real dingos.
. . . because our psycho dog (Marlie, the sweetest psycho dog/party girl in the world) could be Buster’s cousin. She is mellower now that she’s about 2.5, but coming when called is still a work in progress. About a year ago, she and I were taking a “manners class” and the instructor and I were working on recall.
The instructor was so sure that we had it down pat that she let go of the leash when Marlie was within about 8 feet of me. Marlie took off for the woods, trailing the leash, the instructor and I in hot pursuit. Fortunately the leash got caught on some underbrush, or we’d all still be running.
Taking pics
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Here’s Marlie taking a short break from her sworn duty: alerting the neighborhood to dangerous squirrels and bunnies who would otherwise be, well, minding their own business.
Sure looks like Buster and he is also contantly on the lookout for wild creatures. He works for the parks department as a volunteer crow chaser. He also keeps coyotes away from domestic pets. He ignores other dogs unless he is at the leash free park. While there he checks out dogs his size and larger and then challenges them to a chase.
Buster, meet Bill-the-Dog, whose god is Ball. One day at the local off-leash park a very Australian woman asked what kind of dog he was. “Cattle dog and who knows what”, we replied. Her response: “Naw. That’s a dingo.”
So I checked the pics at the Dingo Sanctuary at Bargo. Personally, I think Bill-the-Dog looks like a Cattle dog and who knows what.
The dingo sanctuary I visited last year was in Victoria, near Castlemain. The fellow that ran it was a bit of an oddball, but very keen about dingos (obviously). He lets them roam free and form their own packs.
I found that a few of them would sit next to you, until you looked them in the eye, or tried to pet them – then they moved away.
They were equally camera shy.
If there is anything cuter than this baby mountain goat (in Montana’s Glacier National Park), I’ve haven’t seen it yet.
It was interesting that, though the baby kept bleating, the mother mountain goat was completely relaxed and unconcerned. In fact, every adult mountain goat we came across was absolutely blase about having humans around.
You can see them in the North Shore Mountains across the Burrard Inlet from Vancouver. They have cable cars to take people to the mountain top for viewing.
Beautiful creatures, sure-footed from birth as they romp around the craggy rocks.
We watched them walk on tiny ledges hundred of feet above the ground. They are amazing. And they apparently completely trust their ability to climb anywhere at any time — at one point, we watched a couple of them calmly grazing with a black bear a couple hundred feet away.
If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where they are:…methinks Will Rogers said that:
Non Sequitur
Enjoy
Peace