Puppies

The idea of getting a puppy is always a great thought, especially for someone who has always had one. Our last dog, Sasha, has been gone now 2 years and the house has seemed a little empty, or as empty as it can feel with three small boys thinking their life is one long episode of romper room. Now I was all for getting another dog but when the subject is brought up by the entire family, ready to dive in head first, I felt as if someone needed to be the voice of reason.

This in and of itself is a ridiculous suggestion. Anyone who knows us knows that all decision making is either approved (usually her ideas) or vetoed (me and the boys ideas) by my wife. She has supreme veto power even in the face of 4 to 1 odds, no two thirds majority here. So now you are probably thinking, why are you using democratic terminology to explain what clearly is an autocracy? Well, we all need a little bit of hope, right?

Anyway my wife and I have an invisible dance we do when certain subjects come up. I think it is mainly on big ticket items where down the road a ways there may be some buyers remorse, and if that happens then I am in the boat up the creek with her to share the burden. (Really pretty crafty, maybe even diabolical on her part) We will discuss a topic like should we get that new car, or I was looking at this new furniture, or should we get a puppy. Here is where the slight of hand comes in. She actually asks me, what I think and if I think it would be a good idea. This opening salvo serves two purposes. First I am stunned into thinking that I might be involved with making a serious decision and who doesn't like the way that feels. So now I have been blinded with what I conceive as a form of flattery, (oh she knows what buttons to push, am I really that shallow...yes) and am totally off balance. Then she follows up with, well...maybe we shouldn't. AHA! Now I am am making the decision, it is up to me and only me, I'm wide open, no one else around, time to make the big play, everyone is watching. My thought process is this, if I say no I am considered an ogre. If I say yes I will be loved and favored by all the subjects in my court, and who doesn't like the way that feels. I barely notice my wife and kids huddeling up and high fiving. They have me just where they want me. I hear the little voice in my head saying not to quickly, savor the moment, it doesn't come around that often. So it begins...

I don't know....

Please Please Please!!!!! Can't we get one? We'll take care of her. Please Please Pleeeeeease Dad.

They are a big responsibility, you know we would have to find someone to watch her if we wanted to go anywhere.

We'll stay home, we don't need to go anywhere.

You have to feed and get her water.

We already get our own water, that's easy! We all know where the food is, no problem.

I mean get water for the dog and food for the dog. She can't get her own like you guys. (Except 20 minutes after lights out when you all suddenly are hungry and thirsty)

Yes Yes We will do it.

Someone has to pick up after her.

I can pick her up, she is tiny.

No, outside, after she goes the bathroom, someone needs to pick it up. (My poor yard, it was looking great)

Um,....... I'll do it. (Not as many volunteers here, but at least one is stepping out on that ledge)

The delight in everyone's face is multiplying exponentially with every question. They are going to love me forever. Now who is the clever one? I have already made my decision but they hang in the balance. Oh how sweet it is. Well, if you guys promise to take care of her and love her than I guess we could get a puppy. The applause and rejoicing is deafening, I am the greatest father on the planet, drink it up big guy. You have done it!! Finally a decision all by yourself. As the jubilant cheers start to taper off my wife says great here is an address, they have puppies, meet us there at ten. Huh? Just meet us at ten. The next five days is a blur of chew toys, kibble, and puppy cries in the night.

That's how it ends, I have to go now. My boys are playing downstairs in the warmth of our basement while a spring snow storm howls outside. The puppy has had some food and water I gave her, now I have to carry her out in the snow and wait for her to do her business, then pick it up.

And who doesn't like the way that feels?

Fishing 101

Fishing is one of the few sports that my young boys have taken a real interest in. I've found that shoving all the "ball" sports down their throats at a young age when they aren't coordinated enough to walk and chew gum yet is like asking your wife if you can get a boat before they are old enough to swim. (I smell another blog with that topic) The idea is entertained only long enough to create visions of them throwing touchdowns and hitting home runs in the bottom of the ninth only to be crushed as soon as a butterfly or roly poly is spotted.

So, fishing it is. My 7 year old was the proud recipient of his very own spinning rod combo on his birthday in January and we finally had nice enough weather to take it out for a test drive. Here I have to give you some backround, on Saturday mornings instead of cartoons all three boys are enthralled with the fishing shows on various outdoor networks. Excellent right? Remember they are 7,6, and 3 so at this age anything seen on television can be duplicated after watching it one time. (Also works the same with my wife and home shows) You merely need watch the 17 minutes of a program minus the commercials and suddenly know more than anyone, especially your father, on any topic under the sun.

Back to the marvelous gift. With the pole he received a low grade tackle box with a few assorted lures and jigs, none of these any serious fisherman would spend two cents on. But here is where being 7 and knowing everything comes into play. He decides that since he saw a show where the host was using a jig to pull out monstrous bass that it's as simple as having your dad tie one on and throwing it in the water.

Now my plan was to take them to a gravel pit close by, because if we don't catch a fish in 20 minutes it's on to the next thing like butterflies and sticks, to catch a few bluegill and get the season started on a positive note. Being the swami of fishing tactics I suggested we tie on a fly and bobber and soon we would be pulling them out hand over fist. No. He is going to use a jig and that is that. OK, waste your time and see if I care.

My 6 year old, still using one of my 2 foot ice fishing rods, can feel the controversy building and decides the fly sounds like a good idea and we hook him up with that. Now I have a control for the experiment and I am ready to gather data.

We arrive at the gravel pit and as I am setting down everyone's tackle boxes, bottles of water, and other necessities my seven year old makes exactly 2 casts and pulls in a bluegill. "Dad I caught one!" he says, and as I congratulate him I ponder how he has beaten the unbelievable odds of such a feat also hoping he won't remember the previous discussion. 7 year olds don't forget...anything. As I'm helping release the prey, I hear a casual, "I told you so." As I fight the urge to sling him and his new pole out into the water I muster up, "Yeah, you did, good job."

Fast forward 45 minutes, time I have alternated between the two boys poles unwinding, unsnagging, and re-stringing lines. The 7 year old says dad i'm tangled and I choose this time to explain one of life's hard lessons, "Part of fishing is taking care of your own gear, there isn't always going to be someone around to help." Pretty deep huh? A life lesson covered with a fishing metaphor. Nice work Dad. I see him sit down and set to work on his tangle. I'll have to admit he worked pretty hard at it because after 10 minutes the tangle was 100 times worse than it had started. Realizing this he sets down the pole and states,"I'm taking a short break." I figure he hasn't quite given up yet so I'll see how it goes.

My six year old's eyes light up like a gambler seeing the strip and casually saunters over to the new pole, tangle and all and picks it up. He notices that there is about 7 feet of line still available before the mother of all knots and proceeds to start dragging the line up and down the shore line. I am taking this break in the action to actually make a few casts myself, and hear the six year old behind me say, "I got one!!" Without turning I say it's probably a snag and he says, "NO, it's a BASS!!" Then I turn and see that he has, against all the rules of mother nature and the fishing gods, somehow landed a 7 inch smallmouth bass.

Now the commotion has gotton the 7 year olds attention and he is on his way over to see what all the noise is about. "Is that a bass dad?" he asks. It sure is I say, what a proud papa, their first bass. Then I hear, "I told you so."

New rod and reel combo $35, fishing license with habitat stamp $30 dollars, kids not restrained with knowledge but an immeasureable ability to belive in one self....Priceless.