I have had this plecostamus since January, 1995. He was only about 3 inches long then. Now he's about 14 inches long. I got him when I was a freshman in college, and he's been with me in three different states and eleven houses. He's been moved twelve times and has outlasted every other fish in my aquarium. I’ve wanted to get rid of him before, but never had the heart to put him in a river or some garden pond. We've seen a lot together. I've gone from being a Mormon missionary to being an atheist, went through one marriage and five years into the second, I've had too many jobs to remember, and too many fish to remember. I've lived in two different countries (US and Canada) and five different states since I've owned him. (He didn't follow me everywhere.) I've been an employee and I've been self-employed, and now I'm an employee again. This fish met my stepdaughters and watched my wife go through labor to bring my daughter into the world. He's heard a lot of Nine Inch Nails and watched me spend a lot of all-nighters in front of the computer, for both work and play. I feel weird for getting all mushy over a fish. It's not like you can pet him or that he does tricks or that I can take him for walks. Nonetheless, he's been a fixture in my life. Something that was always there. And now he's not.

Good-bye, Plecostamus. I'm sorry I never gave you a name, but it never seemed to matter to you. I hope my next 14 years are a little less eventful and a little less tumultuous than the years I shared with you. You will be missed.