Bill, it turns out, comes from a fishing family. Or a fish family rather. His brother Steve owns a fish farm in Alabama. That could explain Bill's expectation that we would get to the lake and the fish would be happily waiting for us to pluck them out of the water like apples from a tree.
Dante, left, is what people in the medical business call a malingerer. If you are like me you are looking at this poor afflicted toy poodle asking yourself what happened to his neck. Whiplash? That was my assumption. But his otherwise active, chipper and general healthy countenance belied that assumption. I started to notice the little guy turning his head when Kirstin would point out this Western Grebe on the left or that White Pelican on the right. Eventually I could not longer take the farce so I yelled out, "Dante!" As suspected, Dante turned his head almost 180 degrees like an owl and looked at me with expectation. I said, "aha!"
In your face little toy poodle lier. Then Kirstin said, "it's a life jacket, not a neck brace."
So then I noticed Diego with his head in traction. Before I made a fool of myself I decided that he was simply looking for support for his ungainly head while he napped.
One of the first things we did after launching the boat was set crawdad traps. Above was the climactic moment as we awaited a cage teaming with little lobsters.
Nothing but two delicious strips of bacon. None of us knew the regulations on bacon so we set them free.
Be fruitful and multiply gross, wet, fatty strips of bacon!