Fish out of Water

Tiger loves adventure. I do too, but how can I compete with Wildlife of Africa?

If I'm not quick enough or have an acceptable reason for stalling- he just packs up and starts on his way.

He has wanted to go camping and fishing all summer. We all wanted to. Monkey likes the smores, Puppy likes the dirt. Rhino wanted to go play nocturnal games and Tiger wanted to pee on a tree and not get in trouble for it. With my health and Mr. Zookeeper being gone so much- we just haven't been able to get out.

The living room is still under construction so we put up a tent. We did hot dogs, smores and a whole box of matches in the fire-pit out back.  We went out on the four-wheeler and brought back lots of dirt and yet, the desire to go camping and fishing remains.

Mr. Zookeeper is hiking with Rhino's class field-trip. Once we shared that someone might have to pull Rhino up the mountain, the teacher was all too happy to allow one of us to chaperone.

I was scheduling a vet appointment (for the dog) when I heard the door shut. Instinct made me dart around every corner, over every pile and fly down the steps and out the front door. Tiger was making his way up the mountain too. When I told him it was in the other direction, he seemed really put out that he had gone so far for nothing. I convinced him I could not go camping since we didn't have enough french fries to last overnight but we did have a river close by and dad left us the fishing poles.

I made Tiger cut the hot dogs. Apparently catfish like hot dogs, there is just something not right about that but it was better than handling worms. Once the sensory activity was completed; I grabbed the pole, tackle box, my garden gloves and fruit snacks. Wait- mom needs bug spray "Tiger- the river is the other way!"

We dodged a garden snake and several grasshoppers. Monkey and I agreed- that was close.

Monkey was delighted to be the hot dog handler. Tiger was delighted to not have to touch one again. The hook was baited and I just prayed nobody had to be rushed to the doctor with a fish hook hanging off of something. Tiger wailed that pole around and slammed it into any and everything within reach. Forget the fish, I was afraid we'd be going home with a bird! After five minutes and two whole hot dogs lost, Tiger grew anxious. I told him once the hot dogs were gone- we'd have to be done (built in timer). Slowly, we cast out again in attempt to catch something other than moss, branches and unexpected passers-by. We talked out the ABC's so that the pole had to stay in the water at least long enough to get wet before he was ready to reel it back in just to check. I have a new found respect for my parents and now completely understand the little bell Dad put on the end of my pole. Tiger sat on my lap and while Monkey reminded us what letter came next I said a silent prayer. Please, please just let him catch something- he'll never let it go until he catches something and though I might run out of hot dogs today, tomorrow will come.  As we approached the letter H, I second guessed my prayer- I wanted to take it back. If he catches something- I have to handle it! Before we got to L my line got tight. I tried to ignore it but Tiger saw the tip of the pole bend. "A fish A fish!"  Tiger and Monkey had waited for this their whole life- OK, it was only 10 minutes but the walk there took 20 so technically- it was forever. I was reminded that prayers are heard but you'd better prioritize them better because you can't always take them back.

I screamed with excitement, "Tiger- you caught a fish!." While I was thinking, "Oh crap! He caught a fish!"

Monkey was bouncing with joy in the other direction while Tiger was up close and personal. The fish started twisting about trying to save itself and startled Tiger. Instinctively he kicked it. I've been on the other end of that foot and found myself wondering if the fish preferred the hook in its mouth. I pulled it out from the bush and opened the tackle box. I suddenly remembered that I had never been fishing by myself before and there was a lot more in that box than I knew what to do with.  My dad gutted my fish right up until I got married and then my husband took over from there. Who was I to deny them their chivalry? 

I put on my garden gloves, grabbed the hook puller outer and attempted to stare my way out of the situation. Tiger was gearing up for another wrestling match and Monkey was eagerly watching. I can do this. No, I can't. I've only watched a firework looking hook be pulled out of trout and this was a worm hook. Furthermore, the "whiskers" on that catfish reminded me of some octopus- like Davy Jones creature threatening me in a deep voice and I realized I wasn't as cool as I thought. I debated letting Tiger kick it again but resisted. I wanted to dive right in- show the kids what was up and have Mr. Zookeeper totally impressed with my skill in addition to the normal hot wife looks. I had paused long enough. So, with the slicing open and gutting out knife in one hand and the hook puller outer in the other, I did what any wife of a fisherman would do. I stood on the fish and cut the line.

I dumped out the fruit snacks and water and convinced Tiger to put the fish in the grocery bag- hook, line sinker and all.   We loaded up and headed back. Tiger was flinging the bag around like a hula hoop and I was once again feeling bad for the marine life- regardless of how awful it looked or what it whispered. While waiting for Tiger to jump through the only mud puddle around (which was a good 50 ft out of the way), Monkey decided to look at the pretty butterflies. "Mom look a cat-" I turned around and thought 'oh crap' once more. (I kept thinking 'oh, crap' so I wouldn't find myself wearing it!) It was not just a pretty house cat- it was a less than pretty skunk and we were in his way. I grabbed Monkey and joined Tiger at the waterhole. I kept my composure so I wouldn't scare the kids- or the human race. Plus I saw what Tiger did to the fish... the skunk would kick back.

The coast was clear and we marched quickly. I couldn't take any more. This outdoor adventure gave more wildlife experience than I had bargained for. Where was the deer and muskrat of previous adventures? I'm carrying the heavy tackle box full of things I would never know how to use plus the pole and uneaten snacks. I am ahead of the kids just trying to keep up the pace when Monkey lets out a blood curdling yell. I turn around and Tiger has once again dropped and kicked the fish. Apparently in all of the swinging and hula hooping, the fish began to "come alive" once more and this time broke through the bag. Should have gone with re-usable instead of recyclable. It wouldn't have been so bad except for the only body part spilling out was the head.

"It's looking at me!" Monkey jumped as if she was on hot coals and Tiger seemed proud and bewildered at his ability to bring things back to life. I carried the bag a few steps and then the fish started his final wrestle. Now I was screaming like a little girl!  If that thing squirms out of there- I will not be able to compose myself. I have had four children and that takes its toll on a woman! I opened the tackle box and made some room.

We raced home.  Monkey was happy to comply while Tiger was content to get his prize of french fries if he hurried. The whole time I was running the fish was knocking at the sides of the box. My overactive imagination took flight. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I did a little of both. 

Tiger went straight for the fries and Monkey got a hot dog of her own. They were over the adventure but I was left with a fish and his vengeance. I left the tackle box on the porch and swear I saw it trying to jump its way back towards the river.

I grabbed three garbage bags, the BBQ tongs and a lunch box. The catfish prison was complete with a zipper of iron clad. And just to be safe, I stuffed it in the garage, put a hammer on top to weigh it down and locked the deadbolt. 

So yeah. We caught a fish- no big deal; that's just how we roll...