As a follow up to the story below, I continued to fish when I had the opportunity.
I remember vividly one evening around sunset when I got into a rowboat and anchored in the little bay adjacent to our home. The frogs were croaking on the lakehore, the lake filled with lily pads and dragonflies as the sun was setting behind the steeple of a church on a distant shore. It was a magical night as I sank my line into the water. I didn't have much expectation but just loved being in the overall serenity of that environment. Lo and behold, I got a bite that tugged on my pole. I knew immediately that there was something bigger than what I was accustomed to with the small perch, sun bass and catfish. I reeled it close to the side of the rowboat and realized it was a very large fish. My immediate concern became, how would I ever manage to get it off the hook since that was the most difficult aspect of fishing for me. As I continued to reel it in and upwards, it unexpectedly ejected itself off the hook and into the bottom of the boat and relieved me from having to face my fear. It remained flopping around in the boat while I returned home to get my Dad who had to kill it. In retrospect, it was an evening filled with many emotions. The joy I felt while on the lake in such a peaceful environment and the conclusion that resulted in the death of an innocent animal. I couldn't bear to watch. That was the last time I ever went fishing. Perhaps the size was a factor and made it more realistic and was so incongruent to the serenity I had experienced earlier. The only happy ending is that my cat had food for several days.
No doubt, I would have a different attitude, if my hunger and survival was a factor.
~ Tutte ~
