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This afternoon just before sunset Dad and Sissy grabbed their fishing rods and set out for a happy hour of fishing fishing. Mom and I decided to tag along. Dad thought that today the weather conditions were perfect: the lagune presented a full body of water, the wind stirred up a little waves and the fish were ready to take the bait.


The bait .. yes, that bait that I just cannot resist! Dad had some prawns and Sissy cut a few sardine fillets. The moment the lines were in the water and the Humans’ attention was otherwise occupied, I took the bait. That’s what they call it, not so? – the fish took the bait and everybody gets happy. Howeverrrrr, when This Dog took the bait, he was in beeg trouble. And got banned from the fishing grounds.

So Mom and I went for a walk along the beach and the river bank, searching for interesting shells and small pieces of driftwood for her coffee table arrangement. The arrangement that is never going to be arranged in any order; all the shells, wood slivers and pebbles have so far remained in a bucket on the balcony, but that is not important right now – this is a fishing story.


When Mom and I got back after half an hour or so, Dad proudly displayed the catch for the day. Mom promptly picked up the little fishy from where it was lying in the sand on the river bank and she put it back in the water.


Dad’s jaw dropped to the sand bank. He actually thought Mom would enjoy fresh fish for supper. Mom was not having any of that: “Did you see how that poor little fishy was struggling for breath? Shame on you! If I want fish I’ll go to the fish market and buy some”. Yes, they will be frozen and definitely not breathing at all, but Dad refrained from saying anything. He’s a very wise man who knows that he cannot possibly win this kind of argument.

Nope, not a good day for fishing after all.