Vino Depascagliatelli Doses Salt for Koi and Pond Fish

This fellow, whose name is Vino DePascagliatelli (he's fictitious but the name is fun to say fast) has a fifty-five gallon fish tank full of fine Chinese Ranchu. (He never went for those big ugly-headed Orandas). Anyway, his fish break with Ich because he bought a new fish from an otherwise reputable dealer and did not quarantine it. The Ich is obvious because the fish have white spots all over their fins and bodies. So he checks out this book and quickly figures up his total dose of salt.

0.3% represents one tablespoon per gallon.

He has a fifty-five gallon tank and the fish are stable, so he figures the dose into "thirds" for gradual addition. That would be 18.3 tablespoons every twelve hours.

It's ten o'clock by the time he gets home with the salt. He bought So-Lo® brand rock salt with Yellow Prussiate of Soda. He's just about to KILL all his fish when his wife notices it: "Vino, Vino!! Oh my God, Vino lookit he-ah! Lookie! Doc Johnsin's book says not ta' use no salt wit Yella' Prussiate uh Soda in it!"

Vino grabs his receipt and runs down to the local mart, and exchanges the salt for Dandy® brand, which has Sodium Alumino-silicate as its anti-caking agent. This is fine.

He gets home just in time to meet his wife at the door. She's going to get lunch with her friend Myrna, and she still has curlers still in her hair.

He checks his watch. It's noon. Vino adds 18 tablespoons of salt. When it dissolves it leaves a little sand on the glass bottom of his tank. No big deal.

"Docta Johnson din't say nuttin' 'bout no sand bein' left behind in da tank". He's a little miffed but he ignores it, as he should.

Twelve hours later, at midnight, his wife wakes him up.

"Dincha' hafta add some mowa salt ta 'dat fish tank ovah daya?"

"Jeez Stella, 'tanks fer wakin' me up, I almast fa-got!" Vino rubs his eyes and applies another 18 tablespoons of salt to the tank. He goes back to bed. Stella still has the curlers in her hair.

It's noon the next day when Vino walks over to the tank. (Well, Vino kind of struts like a large chicken, and he has a gigantic pompadour, but that's another story). He leans down and notices the fish are perkier. The spots are still there, but he's a trusting fellow. So he adds his last eighteen tablespoons and sits down to read the paper.

That night, Stella is counting all the white spots.

"One thousand eight hunnid and ninety seven! Vino! They're goin' away! Yestaday dare wuz two 'tousand five hunnid and toidy!"

Vino puts his head in his hands. She starts counting the white spots all over again.

Forty eight hours later, she is counting the white spots again. She still has curlers in her hair. 

"Jeez, Stella, are we gonna go to some kinda big Poddy at da end ah da munt? Whatcha wearin' 'dem 'coilas fa?"

"Oh shut up, Vino!" she retorts. "I shou'nt tell ya dis, 'cause yer bein' such a goombah, but doze Ick bugs is all gone away!"

Vino jumps up and looks. Within about 72 hours after the last salt dose, at seventy-four degrees ^oF all of the Ich cysts have vanished from the skin. He leaves the salt in for ten more days just to be on the safe side. Later that week he wins the New York Lotto and sends Dr. Johnson a new Lincoln Town Car for all his careful advice in this great book.