I promised myself that I would add one of these stories here every time I told one. I tell them at one point or another throughout the summer. There will be no chronology - not yet anyway - nor will there be much of a schedule. You never know; I might add a story every day and I might not. This is my life. Every day is an adventure.


Sunday, July 4, 2010

Cat Fishing

Everyone knows that cats can be very comical creatures. They chase most anything that moves and will go to great lengths to keep what they catch. Now, mix an avid fisherman with said cat and you have at least an hour or two full of giggles.

The first kitten we had was my first introduction to cat fishing. My husband cut the hook off a lure he called a coho fly, usually used to catch red salmon or cohos. However, out of season, say during the winter, they work great for cats too.

At the time, we lived in military housing and the only carpet was on the stairs. The living room was hard wood and the dining room and kitchen was linoleum. Since I really liked the hard wood floor, I didn't have any rugs.

Now, fishing for cat takes only a little patience and not a lot of skill but both will enhance the experience. Casting across the living room without taking out a light-bulb or knocking something off the coffee table takes some precision, not that I ever kept much on the coffee table but most any surface tended to collect something.

The clicking of the reel usually brought the desired target within a couple casts and the hunt was on. The optimum point of contact was right at the bottom of the stairs, and then, as soon as the catch was made, it was a hasty tug of war. Would the cat make it to the carpet before the fisherman could close the bale and retrieve the lure? Or would she be pulled, sliding, claws scratching and digging, fighting every inch of the way, across the hard wood floor.

But there was always the next cast, and sometimes she made it to the carpet, then the fight was truly on. With claws digging at the carpet and her teeth firmly sunk into the hair of the lure, she gave it all she was worth to keep what she'd caught. Her goal was to make it as far up the stairs as she could. My husband's goal was to reel her in, drag clicking away as he pulled at his pole just as if he were fishing for a lively trout.