We are teaching Sean to plan. He thinks about what he wants and figures out what he needs to do to make his dreams come true. A few weeks ago he wanted to see Shazam with his friends.  He had to text them to find out when they were free, agree on a time to meet, buy tickets, and ask me to drive him. He decided when we needed to leave and how much money it would cost.  It was a great activity and fun lesson.  (The movie itself was meh.)

Last Monday, I was pleasantly surprised by Sean’s planning. I asked him what he wanted to do this week and he wanted to go rock climbing and fishing. Two of my favorite things! I was fired up. We worked out the details and decided to climb on Monday and fish on Friday. Climbing on Monday was ok.

Friday fishing was awesome!  Sean pulled in his friends Matthew and Justin. Justin brought his dad with him so we had a whole fishing party. We also brought Jirachi, which might not have been the best idea.  I was on the fence. When I asked Sean, he voted her in. It turned out to be warm and I didn’t bring her any water.  I’m a bad dogfather.

I got all our gear ready and put it in the truck. I grabbed Jirachi and brought her to have lunch with me and a couple friends. During lunch, Sean texts: Can you bring some drinks from home?

ME: Nope. I’m having lunch. But we can pick up something on the way.

Cool that Sean is looking forward to bringing some cold drinks for him and his buddies.  I just realized that I didn’t think to bring drinks for my dog or my boy.  Jeez, I’m a bad dad, too.  Good thing Sean is like his mom!

I pick up Sean and Matthew from school and we head to Dick’s for earthworms and cold drinks. I run in and out while Sean and Matthew wait in the car with Jirachi.

Justin is driving separately with his dad. We beat them to Heather Farms but are not sure where they will be so we go up to the central balcony area so they can easily see us. I rig up the rods. Sean sees a nice bass right below and drops his worm but the bass isn’t interested. Sean and Matthew move further down the balcony.

We see Justin walking on the far side of the pond. He’s carrying two rods. My kinda guy; prepared with an extra fishing pole. I see the bass again and drop my worm a few feet behind him. (If you drop it on his head, there’s a good chance you will scare him off.) The boys walk away to find another spot.

Suddenly, Sean is running toward me, feet thumping on the wood. His eyes are wide and he’s breathing hard. “Pop, I caught a duck!” I put my rod down.  My mind is spinning through the possibilities. He explains that he accidentally tangled a duck. “Should I cut the line?” he asks anxiously.

“No. Stay with the dog,” I reply tersely.  In my head, I’m thinking if we cut it, the duck will be dragging around a bunch of fishing line- not good for long term survival. I grab my pliers and hustle off. I pick up Sean’s rod and slowly reel the poor thing in.

I see a green head.  It’s a male mallard. I use one hand to hold his neck and tuck him under my arm like a football. Luckily, the duck wasn’t badly injured and he’s too tired to attempt to a getaway. The tiny claws on his toes are against my forearm and I’m grateful he doesn’t scratch me. I spend a few minutes trying to get him untangled but do not have great success.

I look up and this jogger is staring at me. Blue shirt, shorts, sunglasses. Just standing there. Is he angry at us? Concerned? I am ashamed we caught a duck, even if it was an accident. I could have used an extra hand but I am too proud to beg. After another minute, I swallow my pride because the duck and I need help. I looked at the jogger and ask deliberately, “Did you want to help?”

He shakes his head dumbly. But he doesn’t move along, either. A long moment passes. He drawls, “Is it hooked in the wing?” Great, so he doesn’t want to help and now he’s interviewing me for a newspaper article?

“Not sure,” I reply curtly and concentrate on the duck. The tangle is so bad I have to walk us back to my bag to get something to cut the line. Sean and Jirachi are waiting but I wave them off. Jirachi would love to play with the duck and that would certainly not help!

I use a nail clipper to cut the line in several places, then remove the sinker and the line wrapped around his wing. The hook is in his thigh but I am able to wiggle it out. I walk the duck back down to the water’s edge and put him down. He waddles around on dry land, shakes his feathers, then plops into the water. He paddles out a few feet and seems to be checking himself. The tension leaves my shoulders as he flies off. He’s going to be okay.

Sean apologizes. It was traumatic for me to deal with the duck so I make sure Sean is feeling okay and we go back to fishing.

Justin’s dad Arlen comes by to say hello. He is very thoughtful and brought me a bottle of water, which worked out well because I didn’t get anything for me to drink. I bought Gatorade for the boys but I didn’t want a sweet drink.

I twisted the top off the water bottle and glanced at my line. I casted straight out but something is pulling the line to the left. Arlen has brought me both water and good luck! I quickly put the bottle down and pick up the rod. I lower the rod tip to the left while reeling up the slack, then smoothly lift the tip to the right, setting the hook. The trick is to get solid tension on the line so the point of the hook buries itself into the fish’s jaw.

Fish on! I expect a little trout or maybe a small bass but this thing pulls hard. I’m happy that I got a fish and I feel like Arlen was my lucky charm.  I’m a superstitious fisherman.  I thank Arlen for coming by and reel. The rod bends sharply as the fish pulls away. I keep the rod tip up to maintain constant pressure on the hook. If the fish gets any slack, the hook might come loose and he gets away.

I tell Arlen it feels like a big bass and I am not sure how I am going to get it up the balcony. I can pull small ones up but this beastie might break my line or even snap my rod in half if I tried to haul it up. I’m excited now.  It is a big fish and I’m afraid it’s gonna get away.

The murky water keeps me from seeing how big it is but he’s tugging hard. I walk down to the water, holding my rod up high and letting out some line so I can glide over the bushes without getting tangled.

I get behind the bushes and reel it in. Big catfish! Sean follows with the net and I guide the cat to him. Working together, we get him in the net and pull him up on shore. We haul it back to the balcony and get it into a plastic bag, being careful not to let him flop loose and fall back in the water. I wrap it, toss it into my backpack, and zip it shut so the fish can’t get away. Boom!

Sean starts chasing the bass again. No luck.  He complains, “He bites it and then spits it back out.”

“You’re supposed to hit him when it’s in his mouth.” Sean thanks me and brings his attention back to his bass, armed with my tip. [When your bait is in his mouth, you raise your rod up strongly and, if you’re good or lucky or both, the hook will catch the fish.] Within the half hour, Sean pulls up the bass from the balcony and Justin nets it for him. I pull out another plastic bag and we drop the bass in. I knock him on the head and toss him in my bag.  We got a duck, a catfish, and a bass!

We bring our prizes home, except the duck. It is the Friday before Easter and Tammy has studying to do and preparations for Easter lunch. We are expecting 10 friends so I do not want to add more cooking to Tammy’s agenda. I offer to cook the fish on Saturday but she insists on cooking them Sunday.