Cat Fishing

It Has Been A Long Week.

My husband and daughter love to eat fried catfish, me, not so much. I can eat a bit of it here and there, although I am just not much of a fish eater at all, and catfish is not my particular favorite. Several years ago my husband spent one hot summer exploring the joys of cat fishing. I supported his quest to find the most stank foul smelling bait imaginable, trusting that he would be responsible with the limburger and old gym socks he rustled up to lure the evasive bottom feeders from their dank smelly holes in the gooey sediment.

It was probably the hottest summer I can ever remember having spent here that year. Temps in the 100's everyday, and no a/c at mom and dad's house who we were visiting before we were to head overseas. I was enjoying the family while hubby set out on a course for adventure and fishing. All was well, or so I thought.

About that time I got in the old Corsica, and was going to brave the heat for a quick trip to the store to pick some things up for my mom. I got in that car and it must have been 120 degrees in there with the windows up, and of course, the a/c didn't work, even with all of the windows down, I sat there wondering, "What the hell is that horrible smell?" I couldn't figure it out, but it was the smell of something decaying. It was just awful.

I searched out my husband and said, "Do you have any idea what that stench is in the Corsica?" His eyes began to switch back and forth as he searched his mind for the answer to this extremely important question. He got up and went to investigate, sticking his head in the car, smelling, and then he went and opened the trunk. There, buried beneath all sorts of manly outdoorsy stuff was a small container of extremely pissed off spoiled chicken livers, which he immediately removed, along with all other smelly items accidentally left behind. That was pretty much the point that the Corsica forever became known as the smelly Corsica.

I tried not to look too mortified, or act all prissy about it, but it was the grossest thing ever. Ever.

Why am I talking about this? Oh, yeah, tonight I sat for the better part of an hour watching my daughter cat fish. It was actually quite amusing. She sat on my new couch, with a broom handle, with a long piece of yarn threaded through the hole at the top of the handle. She cast her line and waited. Within a few moments the buggers were taking the bait. First the fat one, who is usually never around, pounced on the orange string, she reeled it in, and giggled watching him go after it. Then the little one with the white paws became mildly amused with the string, eventually he could not contain himself and was trying to grab hold with all of his might.

The third one sat on my lap acting all indifferent, but eventually got up and slowly perched himself out of the string's sight, and when he felt the string looked vulnerable enough, he jumped on it, and they were all in a frenzy each trying to get the string, and chasing it as it moved along. Apparently, the child thought it would be fun to tie a piece of string on the tail of one of them and see what happens. He took off running from the string which was attached to his tail while the others chased behind him trying to get the orange string flying behind him. Three orange cats, one orange string, I'm surprised at how entertaining such a thing could be.

He got scared and ran under the super enormous insecure ottoman, it must be insecure and trying to prove something for it to be so big, I took pity on the cat and called him out and took the string off of his tail. He thanked me by crawling up on my shoulder and purring in my ear.

Eventually I had to ruin the whole thing because I was getting annoyed by all of the string all over the place, and felt the need to start cleaning up around the place. There were scissors near my new couch! I could not take it anymore. But that few minutes of watching my daughter fishing for cats was the highlight of my day.