Plecostomus Pete

For Wally: Kevin Costner aside, the man whose buttocks I’ve seen the more than any other.

Gather round children and let me tell you the story of the bravest fish I’ve ever known.

There have been many great fish tales told through out history: Jonah and the Big Fish, The Old Man in the Sea, anything by Michael Moore, Island of the Blue Dolphins, Moby Dick and a school of others; but this little known tale, this very special one, is about my fish. This is the story of Plecostomus Pete.

A time came during my stay in the pen, okay, it wasn’t really the pen, it was the guy’s dorms at Great Lakes Christian College but it sure felt that way, when my cellmate, I mean roommate, and I decided it was time that we added some life to the dark space we called our room. Since we were not allowed to keep exotic pets (such things as cats & dogs), we came to the conclusion that our best course of action would be to secure some form of aquatic life. Sharks were right out. We also decided to pass on the salt water crocodile, sea horses, sperm whales, and algae (we had enough of that growing in the bathroom). Having eliminated those options early on, our choices were limited. Briefly we considered golf fish, but we were both too traumatized by childhood memories to give it much consideration. In the end we settled on Oscar Fish.

Now, I knew very little about Oscars, Nathan was the real expert, so I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. The fates smiled on us that day though and Nathan recalled that he had a large tank in the basement of his Detroit home that we could use (On a side note: Turns out the tank actually belonged to Nathan’s older brother Clint and has been hounding Nathan [I think mostly in a joking fashion, but you never know about Clint, I mean come on, it's been almost 10 years] to return it. Trouble is, we gave it to Matt Fallot when we moved out. DOH! So if you know Matt Fallot, tell him Clint Prong is looking for him).

This thing was a monster (the tank that is), it had to be at least 4 feet long. Well, maybe not 4 feet, but at least 3 feet 10 inches. One of the curious things about Oscar fish is that they grow to the size of their environment, to add to the excitement, the bigger they get, the meaner they get. These two fish (Ironically both named Oscar) could take off the tip of your finger without a second thought, they were that mean. On top of being mean, they were also messy; being two college guys we understood messy and realized that these guys would need a live in maid to take care of them. So we choose the sucky Plecostomus fish. No, really, literally they suck, that’s how the clean the tank; they are natures little sucky vacuum cleaners of the seas. Plecostomus Pete we called him, and I loved him. He was my fish.

Time passed quickly back in those college days, the Oscars growing bigger and meaner by the day. But good ol’ Pete was there too. In order to keep from being eaten, Pete grew as well and silently worked away day in and day out to keep that tank looking clean. I used to bang on the tank for hours to get him to look at me, but nothing would tear him away from his sucky. Suck, suck, suck, sucking away happily as a little sucker fish. However the Oscars were just too much for poor Pete and the time came for Nathan and I to finally break down and clean the tank ourselves.

We were able to get the two Oscars (who were now about 6 to 7 inches in size) into a smaller holding tank, but there was going to be no way that we could fit Pete (who was also nearing 7 inches in size) in there, so we ended up putting him in his own little fish bowl on the counter next to the sink. Back in the day the guy’s dorms used to have little kitchenettes. We had a fridge, a stove, and a big sink; we even had a garbage disposal. Good times.

As I was saying we put the fish on the counter and went to go grab something to eat (I mean we were college guys after all). When we returned we began cleaning to large tank. I went and checked on the fish to make sure they were doing alright and everything seemed to be going well. For some odd reason Nathan and I had to step out again (most likely it was dinner time or something important like that). When we returned, Pete was gone.

Pete, my special little Pete, was gone. At first we feared that he had tried to jump ship. We looked all over. In the sink (we ran some water and joked about him falling into the garbage disposal), on the floor, under the couch, under the fridge, nothing. We even looked twice. Honest. Nothing. Then we got the idea that this was a prank by Tom Flammer (we had after all froze his underwear). With that happy thought in mind we both relaxed and laughed a bit. I started to wipe down the counter and get some of our random foodstuffs into the disposal to tidy up the place. I ran some water and reached over and flicked the switch.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

As quick as I could I turned off the garbage disposal.

FLAP. FLAP. FLAP.

PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEE!

FLAP. FLAP. FLAP.

Pete had jumped out of his holding tank, into the sink, and then down into the garbage disposal, and I, me his best friend, had turned on the switch.

FLAP. FLAP. FLAP.

It was clear that Pete was in pain and there would be nothing I could do to save him, no way to fish him out of the disposal. So I did the only thing I could do. I turned on the water and flipped the switch once more.

THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP. THUMP. GRIND. FLAP.

Silence, shattered only by the sound of rushing water filled the room.

The Great Pete Plecostomus was no more.

Rest In Pieces Pete – 1994 to 1995.