Hawgin’s pet fish

Now I am most emphatically not saying when it comes to brains Larry “Hawgin'” Fishbreath has plenty. Most likely, as the old adage goes, if brains were black powder, he probably wouldn’t have enough to load a derringer.

But, I also am most decidedly not saying he ain’t smart. He has his moments of incredible brilliance. These moments might be more rare than an honest politician, but just like good live lawyer, Hawgin’s moments of superior intellectual achievement are something to be admired.

Some time back Hawgin’ and I were busy fishing and catching plenty of fish. Depending on how you want to look at it, this was fortunate or unfortunate. It was unfortunate because all the fish were smaller than we were technically allowed to keep. I say technically, because I also brought along camera, I intended to tell the game warden, if he showed up, we were merely holding the fish in the live well until such time as I could get out in shallow water and take posed pictures of Hawgin’ with the fish in various stages of being caught. 

The fish being caught that is. Hawgin’ being caught would be incidental.

It just so happened that this fine legal steward of the woods and water was indeed making his rounds that day. He rounded the curve so fast people could have surfed on the wake his boat threw. Scientists watching satellite video of the region later wonder why their instruments didn’t show the tidal wave. 

The game warden was moving so fast, he had to turn around and come back to us. This irritated me, because he turned around so fast we didn’t have time to leave or throw the fish in the live well back in the water. I also didn’t have time to dig out the camera and start taking pictures of Hawgin’ with a fish on the end of his line.

“Y’all catching any?” the game warden said as his boat slipped up next to ours.

“Few,” Hawgin’ muttered, turning his back on the Man in Green.

“Need to see your licenses,” said constable of everything outdoors.

We handed over the various licenses for ourselves and the boat. Hawgin’ also had to produce his ID card to prove he was actually in the country legally and not an escaped lunatic from Siberia or one of them other foreign places people are always trying to escape from. 

“What ya got in the cooler?” asked the commandant of the woods and water.

I grinned to myself. He was trolling dead water now. “Few cold ones,” I said, opening the cooler to show pristine ice and several six packs of cold ones. I reached to the bottom and withdrew the coldest of the cold and passed it across the boat. “On the house. We appreciate what you’re doing.” I said.

The marshal of the wilds popped the top and collapsed the can he drank it so fast.

“I appreciate it. Mighty hot out here today,” he said. “Mind if I check your live well?”

With a groan, I said, “Go ahead.” I mentally prepared myself to explain the undersized fish were being kept strictly long enough for pictures, whereupon they would be released. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I might need it later.

The lawman of the untamed opened the live well and peered inside. “Wellllllllll. I do believe you boys have done caught some fish that are under the size limit for these here waters. Lessee, two, four, six, no counted that one twice, ummm…. Tellya what, You are below the creel limit, so I can’t charge you for that, but I am going to charge you for catching under-the-slot fish.”

“What undersized fish?” Hawgin asked.

“Unless you intend to tell me these are robots, I’m talking about these fish right here in this very live well,” said the enforcer of the open spaces. 

“You mean them?” Hawgin’ said. “Them’s my pet fish.”

“Pet fish. Right,” said the warden of the woods.

“Right. I bring ’em along sometimes. I let ’em get out and swim in the water and when we’re ready to go, I whistle to call ’em back to the dip net. I dip ’em up, put ’em back and we go home,” he said.

“Now I have done heard some whopper tales in my time as a conservation ranger. But I do believe you have done gone off and topped them all. You are going to have to prove that to me,” said the mounty of the mountains.

Hawgin’ carefully released each fish from the live well back to the water. 

“Now, whistle and call the fish back,” said the game warden.

“What fish?” Hawgin’ asked.