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Frank's Stuff
Woo woof, grroou wo wom woonm, umrrh, ahummmm....
Oh, i forgot, you might not speak dog. This is Mike. aka Mikie.
I was adopted by my good friend Frank when I was about 1 1/2 years old. I was then known as Max, a name I didn't particularly like. I much prefer Mikie. It suits me. Besides, I relate to that old line..."give it to Mikie, he'll eat anything". Well, almost anything, you can lose the dill pickles (unless they're in a sandwich).
Frank, that old super fisherman, early on gave me a taste of the sport, and I can now say with pride, that I continually help him with his fishing.
Why, I even swim out to those fish he doesn't see. I just can't understand why he yells, and then stands there, sometimes for twenty minutes or more. Doesn't he SEE those fish?? Well, maybe some day he will catch on. I even tried a point once way out on a slippery rock, but it didn't do any good, he ignored me. Sigh.
I know he is not blind, well...maybe he can't see quite as well as I do, and he's real dense about those GREAT smells, like dead salmon, which are so much fun to roll in.
He's so good about letting me participate when he does catch a fish. I'll be swimming out to it, to see how they're doing, and he'll be yelling and carrying on. And all the while he's reeling in that little fish, and I'll be laughing and following, and all of a sudden, zip, there goes another fish back to its river. Frank and I will look at each other and smile and laugh. It's so GREAT to be on the river that we usually don't care whether we catch fish or not. Huh, Frank?
One time, though, I think Frank got kind of upset. He was guiding these two guys, and I was swimming out to them to help, and Frank yelled "Mike, stop that and come here." Well, I turned around and started toward him, but so did one of the guys...his name was Mike, too. Boy was Frank embarrased. Hoho.
Generally, though, we get along just great, and have so much fun. I am so glad that Frank is retired now, we can do so many more fun things. I even get to travel with him, and try out new rivers.
Wish he would take me to some that were a little warmer once in a while, though, brrrrr, most of the rivers in the northwest are glacier fed, and boy are they cold; even in summer.