In late fall, our pond sustained a two-night raccoon apocalypse. The scarecrow sprinkler had broken, and the hungry critters ate about twenty goldfish, as many mosquito fish, and every last apple snail. The plants were shredded as well, underwater pots overturned and roots floating bare in the tragically murked-up water. Of course, the raccoons were just doing what they do, but we cursed them nevertheless as we mourned our lost pets. (It's crazy how you can love fishies. ♥)
Remarkably, six goldfish (and a good number of mosquito fish) survived! They made it through the winter and are feeling zippy, despite their general understandable hinkiness. Here they are!
P.S. Everybody here was born in our pond, descendants of the original four: Lil' Q-bert, Bing, Mason, and Jean-Pierre. Each is between 1.75 and 2.5 inches long now.
