By Norty Piker
Resident of Serpent Lake
Woe is me! I am the Rodney Dangerfield of fish; I get no respect. I’ve heard what people say about me and the likes of me. They get me in their boat and there I lay exhausted and they commence to insult my species. Snake! Slimy! Smelly! And then they ignominiously throw me back in the lake. Well, I’m glad for that part anyway. I get to swim away.
But I’m telling you that it’s not easy down there back in the water. For one thing there are just too many of us. Foraging for food as I must is a fish eat fish proposition. Well, I don’t have to worry about a lot of big ones trying to chomp be down; seems like they have been caught and kept. Not as many insults go their way apparently. But smaller fish like me we are down here competing for food.
It’s not all bad. Especially when they put those small other species in the lake; you know the ones with the big bulging eyes. It’s feast time about every other year. I love them…yum yum. Most of the time, however, it’s slim pickings. Just because there are no big ones after us, does not mean that danger is not lurking in every attempt to capture a prey. It’s those things with the hooks in them. The silvery, shiny things look just like what I am looking for, and then bang. I’m hooked. I hate that when it happens! It’s exhausting.
Well, at least you always give me a second chance….or a third or a fourth. I’ve been caught any number of times…..and insulted sufficiently to have low self esteem for the rest of my life. Thanks for throwing me back, but I do wish that you would keep some of my cousins, or even my brothers and sisters. Less competition for the food down here if you would do that. (So, I get no respect and get insulted regularly, do you expect me to be nice?)
I’ve heard tell that there are just a few fisherfolk with the silvery shiny things with hooks in them that keep fish like me. “Shall we keep him and pickle him?” I don’t know exactly what that is, and I don’t want to know. I think it would be the end of me. I’ve always gotten thrown back so far.
There is another more dangerous fisherfolk than those who would pickle me; those who would filet me. I’ll tell you it sends shivers right up my y- bones. I’ve heard the question asked if anyone on board knew how to take out the y-bones. No one does, so I get thrown back. But that means that someone somewhere does know how to take out the y-bones. I’m proud of my y-bones. They have always been my best protection. If someone knows how to remove them and I get caught by them, I’m history, because as mean and pesty as I am, I know I am delicious. It’s a well guarded secret. I hope that never gets to be common knowledge.
I’m telling you, it’s tough being my species and my size. The only way I can keep living is to be insulted and disparaged; the only way I can be respected is to be filleted, de-boned and eaten, This is my lament. Gotta go now. One of the silvery shiny things is going by – fast. I think I can catch it for lunch. Hope there’s no hooks in it.


