It's Monday afternoon. I imagine most young, urban professionals go home after work, cook dinner, have a drink, watch an hour of TV or so, and go to sleep. What do I do? Go fishing.
I like doing random activities on Mondays- golf, go see a movie, go to the casino, etc. If I do something fun at the beginning of the week, it makes Friday come faster. Today, I realize that I haven't been fishing since the winter has seized, and stop in at my local bait and tackle shop. Right when I walk in the door, I know I am going to spend fifty dollars. Fishing is supposed to be inexpensive, right? Wrong. Car mechanics, home depot employees, black jack dealers and bait and tackle dudes are the only four people that can get me to spend money with reckless abandon. If an auto mechanic told me that I needed to join a pyramid scheme or else my car would stop running the next time I tried to take a right, I would probably do it. Similarly, if a bait and tackle dude tells me that the only way to catch the local catfish is to hook a cotton ball and season it with lemon juice, I will ask how much? Sure enough, he loads my bag with a whole bunch of useless crap and I get out of there after $45.93. A bargain for the delicious 4 pound bass that is waiting for me in that lake.
I drive home, ice some beer, throw on some shorts, grab my dog and I'm off. I've had Magic for about 6 months now and I absolutely love it. For some reason, bringing her to do stuff like this makes me feel like a man. I stare at people as I walk out of the car with my gear wrapped around me and my dog at my feet- "That's right, I have a dog. I'm going fishin'." I unfold my chair, crack my first cold one, and start riggin' my lines. I decide to use one line to just sit in the water while I use the other to fish around the brush with a lure. I would much rather catch a fish with a lure because it's more fun, but I figure I will let one sit there with a bobber and a minnow and see what happens. The bait and tackle dude sold me these girly, bright orange bobbers. I would have chosen a different color myself, but he's the boss- what he says, I do. I throw it in, walk about fifty feet down the shore with my lure line and get to work.
Magic is loving life. She's walking up and down the beach smelling crap, rolling around in crap, eating crap and being a dog- doing dog stuff. She loves doing it and I love watching her do it. It's pretty hot and she occasionally dips her feet in the water. She's a lab and I know she loves to swim, but it takes her a second to get acclimated. I have a feeling she will eventually get in there and go for it which probably won't do wonders for my fish catching prospects, but whatever.
She continually gets braver and braver and finally goes all in. Now I will for sure have to move spots because I cannot imagine how utterly stupid a fish would have to be to take my bait while this is going on. But I decide to keep fishing until Magic comes in because, hey, what else am I going to do?
In the midst of all this awesomeness, I see a problem. Magic is going on a bee line toward the damn bobber. Shoot. She, most definitely, thinks that thing is for her. I am committing a fishing cardinal sin by yelling, but if she grabs that thing and swims who knows where, it could be a fishing disaster. Too late.
Magic grabs the girly bobber like it is a rare filet and swims like she just escaped Alcatraz. I drop my lure line and sprint over to the pole that just caught my dog (the only thing I catch all day) because it is now going into the lake. She exits the lake where she entered and sees me running which she translates into, "Oh, he must be playing a game." Bobber still in mouth, Magic runs down the shore and tangles the line over every blade of grass and branch she passes. She runs up to me, tail wagging victoriously, drops the bobber at my feet and shakes off all the water over me, my fishing stuff and my dignity.
At least she knows how to fetch- that's cool.
2 years ago