Peter the Goldfish
Ask any one of my friends who Peter the goldfish is and they can tell you this whole story. Peter is pretty legendary around my house.
When my brother turned two years old, my parents decided to give him two goldfish for his birthday. He loves animals. They got the fish at Wal-Mart, and knowing Wal-Mart, the fish wouldn’t last even a week. I knew all about those Wal-Mart fish. Well, this particular fish lasted seven years.
My brother was obsessed with Thomas the train at the time. Hence, the fish were named Thomas and Peter. They got along for the couple years that they lived in that bowl together. One particular night, Peter the goldfish decided to turn his back on his old buddy Thomas. We woke up to find Thomas dead, and Peter swimming around joyfully. There were some kind of bite marks or something on Thomas’s side. From that day on, Peter the fish was friends to no fish.
About a week later, we decided to get another goldfish to keep Peter company. Little did we know, Peter would not be welcoming a new guest. The morning after we bought Thomas the Second, we woke up to find the same result.
“Ooooohh, no.” I thought. “Not again. That is one evil fish. We didn’t know what was happening in those evil waters of our fish bowl at night, but we didn’t dare take chances on another fish’s life.
On a lighter note, Peter was very kid-friendly. He loved people. Whenever you would turn on the light and walk into my brother’s room where his bowl was kept, he would amazingly jump out of the bowl and dive back in! He loved for us to watch him. He would swim right up to the glass and stare at us. If you put your finger to the bowl, he would follow it around for hours. He always tried to get out. It was hilarious to see him take a running start (swimming start?) and run into the glass face first.
We all loved Peter, even though he did have a dark side. If you ask any of my friends, some might tell you the story of his evil murderous ways, but others will say, “Oh yeah! I loved that fish! He was so cool!”
Unfortunately, Peter finally died at seven years old. He survived two moves, being disgustingly dirty all the time, and not being fed for weeks at a time! We buried Peter in our backyard where we will remember him forever.
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