Longing for my most distinguished, enthusiastic, and ridiculous fishing partner, Sam Gould. Wishing him a school year as exciting as the multitude of trout he encountered during his NH summer 2012!
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. So there. I am a trout thief. Today, with the seemingly helpful intention of “seeing if they are biting on the hopper”, I threw into a hole that was home to a fish my fishing mate had been stalking for a week. It had rolled, jumping jacked, somersaulted, and pointed and laughed at her fly on multiple occasions. She thought about the fish during her day and in her dreams, imagining how big he might be and whether or not he would have a British or Australian accent. Obsessed.
In the interest of recovery, I must admit that have stolen another person’s fish. More egregious, however, is the thievery of the dream. A 4 pound trout with a combover and ascot who rambles the writings of Walt Whitman as the regalia of his catching unfolds.
A good netting buddy keeps his eye on the catch, while providing a litany of remarks regarding the extraordinary size of the fish you have on the end of the line (note: he does this even if the fish is not impressive in stature).
A good netting buddy gets as excited about netting your fish as you are to have hooked it.
A good netting buddy consoles you when you realize that your fish isn’t quite as big as it felt when it was swimming against the current on the end of your line.
Hang on to a good netting buddy, they are harder to come by than one might think.