Big Fish

 June 15, 2009

I have been setting trot lines and limb lines on the Cottonwood River with my dad my entire life.  This is an art form unknown to many where you use a heavy gage line, huge hook and live bait (usually perch) to catch channel and flat head catfish.  I probably shouldn't disclose any more information about our specific line setting technique otherwise my dad would be royally angry. He's very secretive when it comes to fishing and hunting locations and techniques.

My husband and I decided to take his row boat to the river near our house and try setting lines for the first time without the supervision and guidance of my father.  We set one trot line across the river with about 6-8 hooks.  (Don't worry, with live bait, the line stays very close to the bottom of the river, where the big ones are.)  We hadn't had any luck catching bait fish the day before, so we bought a dozen live goldfish from the bait shop (otherwise known as cheating). The river was fairly shallow with a rock bottom and the current was pretty extreme.  We had to tie on the line on the far side of the bank and hold on to it to keep the boat from drifting downstream in the current.  Gus (the husband) had to row because the current would have overpowered me.  In turn, I was the bait girl, hooking goldfish just under the spine as not to sever it so they still swim.   We set the line in the evening just before dark and returned the next morning.

We put the boat in the river, put ourselves in the boat, and tugged on the line to see how much resistance there was.  It seemed like the line had to be snagged on a log because we could barely move it.  We pulled in a couple small channel catfish from the first couple hooks, had a few hooks still baited, and then... where we thought the line had snagged, we realized it was moving.  I think we both probably peed our pants a little at this point wondering what we had caught.  Occasionally a large snapping turtle or a gar (nasty fish) will get stuck on a line and create an unfortunate situation.  This time however, the river gods smiled on us.  It took all of our combined strength to wrangle this 49 lb flat head into the boat, and then into the back of the truck.  Each of us had one gloved hand in the giants mouth as we carried it up the bank. 

We were so proud of ourselves.  We called my parents to tell them the news and were so excited that they thought we were having a baby. 

We decided to leave the line set and leave the boat on the bank so we could check the line again the next morning.  I asked Gus if we should tie up the boat, but he said it would be fine just sitting on the bank for one night.

That night, after taking pictures, calling all our friends, cleaning the fish, and going out to dinner to celebrate, it began to rain.  I asked Gus if we should get the boat and reminded him that even a couple inches of rain can raise the river by a few feet.  He said it would be fine.

We drove down to the river the next morning and where we had jumped down a 6 ft embankment to the edge of the water the night before now was all river.  The Cottonwood had come up enough overnight (from just a couple inches of rain) to send our boat down river. 

We haven't set lines again since then.  We don't have a boat. 

Moral #1.  Listen to your wife. She is smart sometimes.

Moral #2.  Sometimes the reward comes before the consequence. 

Hitch-hiking Tree Frog

One day last fall after school had started (8/26/10), I stopped to get gas on my way home.  As I was pulling out of the gas station, I noticed a tree frog clinging to my car antennae!  I stopped, got out, grabbed the frog and set him on my dashboard, deciding that a 30 mile relocation would probably be fine; and hoping that having this tree frog around my house would attract more to the area.

I decided to keep him in a container until my husband got home from work.  Tree frogs aren't exactly rare, but we rarely see them.  In the three years that I've lived in my current house, I'd only ever seen one before.  I went outside to take care of my outdoor pets and noticed another tree frog right outside my back door.  I nabbed him and put him in with the first frog.  Then I went back outside.  I found another frog and put him in with the first two.  By the time my husband got home from work that evening, I had collected 8 tree frogs!  They ranged in size from mature adults, 1 1/2 to 2 in, down to little itty bitty babies the size of small crickets. 

I still don't know if it was just a good August for tree frogs, or if I had accidentally created a likable habitat in my yard.  You see, I was keeping my own pet turtles safely in an old bathtub outside for the summer so they could get some natural sunlight.  I don't know if the tree frogs hatched out in or near the tub.  Maybe the tub had nothing to do with it, but the next closest body of water is a farm pond about a quarter of a mile down the road from my house. 

The tree frogs continued to be active in the morning and evening all through September.  Since they prey on small insects, they would frequent our windows, where the insects were attracted to the artificial light.  I was amazed at how much the same frog would differ in color depending on surroundings or stress.  Even the gray tree frogs would vary from almost white to a dark grayish-brown. 

I am always tempted to keep animals in captivity because I just like having them around so darn much.  I considered creating a habitat for a couple tree frogs, but after consulting my brother, an amateur herpetologist, decided against it.  I suppose when an animal is willing to cling on to your kitchen window and let you take pictures of it, it doesn't need to be put in a cage. 

The funny thing is, if the first frog hadn't found his way on to my car antennae, I might not have been perceptive enough to notice the others.  From that night on, we saw at least 2 frogs on the kitchen window everyday until the first frost. 

Hummingbirds

Last summer my husband and I hung a hummingbird feeder outside our kitchen window.  We were constantly amazed at the frequency that these little beaties would feed.  As long as we stayed fairly still, we could watch them from inside indefinately.  I haven't done my homework to find out if we had males and females of the same species with different colorations, or if we actually had more than one species feeding at the feeder. 

We used a sugar water solution in the feeder: one part sugar to three parts water.  Apparently the red liquid that is marketed as "hummingbird food" is just sugar water.  The red color is attractive to the birds, but if the feeder itself is brightly colored, there's no need for colored liquid. 

It was tricky to get a good photo considering these birds' wings move extremely fast.  I happened to catch this little dude at rest on the feeder, a rare moment.  Most of the time they would just hover as they fed.  It's still a little blury since I took the photo with my phone through the kitchen window.

Snapping Turtles

During the warm months of the year, a common activity for me is to move turtles off the highway so they don't get run over.  Like other members of the reptile family, turtles have to thermo-regulate in order to function, hence basking on warm road surfaces.  It is always an interesting twist when the animal is a snapping turtle that doesn't want to be moved off the highway.  Other water turtles and box turtles (technically tortoises) just go in their shell, pee a little upon being picked up, and are perfectly happy to be placed a safe distance away from the highway.  (For you skeptical readers like myself, you're probably thinking this doesn't do any good because the turtle will just go back to the highway.  In my experience, I have never seen a turtle return to the road, and I drive the same stretch of road multiple times in a day.) 

The turtle pictured above (from June 15, 2010) was not at all pleased that I wanted him to move off the road.  Now, I would love to exaggerate and say that I have really big feet, but that just wouldn't be right.  I wear a women's size 7, making this guy just about 9 in long.  Snapping turtles are much more complicated than other turtles because they are innately aggressive.  Luckily, I had a large sheet pan in my car that I used to push him, little by little, off the road and into the ditch. 

I've never actually seen this happen, but I've heard that even if you're holding a snapping turtle by the tail, their neck is still long enough to reach around and bite you.  While I enjoy helping wildlife survive and thrive, I'm not willing to risk a finger or toe.  The sheet pan is probably my most creative method so far, but I've used other objects as well.  A different situation involved me baiting a much larger snapping turtle into biting the end of a wrapping paper tube in order to drag him off the road. 

I suppose if I didn't wear flip-flops so often, neither the sheet pan or the wrapping paper tube would have been necessary. 

Pit Bulls: a Sad Story

On Christmas day, my husband and I were headed home from visiting family in western Kansas.We stopped  by our house momentarily to feed our pets before heading to family Christmas number two.  Our bloodhound, Stella, came out of the barn with a little blue male pit bull.  We put Stella in the house and went on our way, hoping when we got home again, the pit would be gone.  He wasn't.

We brought him in out of the cold and fed him, and called the neighbors to make sure he wasn't accounted for, even though he'd obviously been mistreated.  The neighbors told us they'd seen two pits running around together this one, and a white one.  This little guy had scars all over his front legs, chest and head.  His ears were badly cropped and he was extrememly thin. 

The following Tuesday, I got a call from my friend Scott just before dark saying he'd seen the white pit laying beside the road about 2 miles from my house.  I set out with food and water thinking that even if this dog wouldn't get in my car and come to my house, maybe he would at least eat some food and be able to survive the freezing temperatures a little longer.  I drove around the area where Scott had seen the dog, but didn't find him.  I turned off my engine, got out, yelled and listened for any noise that might indicate an animal was in the area, but heard nothing.  After about a half hour of looking and listening, I drove home.  Two hours later, there was a white pit bull on our back step.  I will continue to wonder if my looking for him had anything to do with him showing up, or if he was already on his way to our house.  Anyhow, I brought him in, fed him and watered him and gave him a warm bed for the night. 

Both dogs were extremely gentle, cuddly, and wanted lots of attention.  The little blue decided he was a lap dog and took naps on both my husband and I in the time that he was with us.  The white dog was a little more timid, but still very people friendly.  Stella took kindly to both dogs even though she had to tell the white dog that it was not okay for him to hump her, but she only had to tell him once. 

I put pictures and info about the dogs on my facebook and had a couple gals lined up that wanted to meet the dogs.  I was very hopeful that I would be able to find good homes for the dogs despite the fact that they were both skinny and scarred. 

The following Friday was New Year's Eve.  I was out of town, but my husband was working and got home just after midnight.  He let all 3 dogs out to do their business and all hell broke loose.  Something triggered the two pits to attack eachother.  My husband is over 6ft tall and is a lot of man, but couldn't even begin to separate the dogs.  He ran in the house, grabbed and loaded his pistol, went out and shot it into the ground and successfully spooked the dogs enough to get them to release their death grip on eachother's faces. 

I called to tell him happy New Year, but his wasn't happy.  He described it as the most vicious animal attack he'd ever seen.  The next day, I had to contact the gals and tell them that I couldn't give them these dogs.  They both have kids and other dogs and I couldn't, in good conscience, give them dog-aggressive dogs. 

I contacted every dog rescue organazation that google could find, but they were all full, many full of pit bulls.  The best I could do was to take the dogs to the Kansas Humane Society shelter in Wichita.  They accept bully breeds because there is no breed ban in Wichita (if only more major cities would get educated).  Unfortunately they do euthanize animals that aren't elligibile for adoption.  Elligibility depends on a behavioral asssessment where the dogs are tested in situations with humans and other dogs to determine temperment. 

The shelter is a beatiful facility and was buzzing with people looking at adoptable pets.  The girl that took the dogs told us she had pits of her own and loves the breed, but told us honestly that these guys probably didn't have a chance.  If pits don't act perfect and look perfect, they aren't elligible for adoption. 

I still feel like a failure even though I did the best I could.  The only thing that I find solace in is the fact that I gave them food and shelter for what was probably the last week of their life.  Also, I gave them love, which they'd probably never had before. 

Having gone through that situation makes me want to castrate and torture the people that raised these, or any dogs to fight.  I am not an animal rights activist.  I am not a vegetarian.  I think PETA is ridiculous.  I think some of the human race is pathetic.  Use your englarged frontal lobes and opposable thumbs to do good.  We CREATED these animals.  Their well-being is out responsibility.  Stop intentionally breeding dogs.  There are millions of animals in this country that need homes. 

HWY 50 and Dogs Don't Mix

I making my 35 mile commute home from work in Emporia Thursday, January 20th at about 4:30 in the afternoon when I spotted 3 large white dogs in in a field on the north side of the highway about 8 miles west of Emporia.  They looked like a pride of lions just sitting there watching the semis drive by.  I assume that most of the other travelers on the highway didn't even see the dogs considering the snowy terrain and the white coats of the dogs.  Being an amateur dog whisperer, I decided to pull over and assess the situation.  As soon as I got out of my car and called to them, the dogs started coming towards me.  The largest one appeared to be a male Great Pyranese, the next largest a male husky mix, and the smallest a female lab mix, but all three had beatutiful long white coats.  Since I speak dog, I said, "Hey guys, what's are you doing out here?  Do you you live around here?" Unfortunately, they didn't have any information for me.  The only possesion these guys had was a small deer carcass that they were enjoying for an afternoon snack, probably scavenged road kill. 

I called my mom to get a phone number for the dog shelter and animal control, but the shelter was closed and the animal control dispatcher had no officer on duty.  She told me they'd been getting reports for the last 3 days about the dogs and, as I was standing there petting the dogs, she told me their animal control officer had tried to catch the dogs, but they were too illusive.  Hah.  Not too illusive for me. 

I decided to try to get the dogs into my car, not knowing exactly what I would do with them even if I did.  Fortunately, from another recent dog excursion, I had a dog collar and leash in my car.  It was very easy to determine that the Pyranese was the leader of the pack and was letting the female eat while keeping the other male away.  I decided to try for the husky mix first.  I got the collar on him, but it was a little large and just as I almost had him in the car, he flopped like a fish and the collar came off. 

About that time, my buddy Brad was passing by on his way home form work and pulled over to see what I was doing.  Brad is not so much an animal guy, and already knows I'm crazy, so it was no big surprise to him that I was trying to help these dogs.  Although not a whole lot of help with the actual animals, Brad was great moral support. There were a couple really exciting moments where the dogs crossed the highway causing a semi to swerve into the other lane barely missing the three dogs.

I successfully put the collar on the largest dog, who probably weighed about as much as me.  He obviously wasn't going to be helpful and jump into the car, so I dragged him up the incline with all my might (my quads are still a little sore) and lifted his front half into the car and then his. back half. We struggled for probably a half hour to get the dogs into my car, but each time we'd try to get a second dog in the car, the first dog would wriggle out. 

I finally decided to give up on the dogs.  Of course their nearness to the highway was still a major concern, but they had thick enough coats not to freeze to death, and they were obviously not going to starve to death, with the deer and all, so I figured I could leave them and still get to sleep that night.

I told Brad it must be really hard to be friends with me, considering all the situations I get myself into, and then when I got back in my car, my battery was dead.  Apparently a combination of 20 degree temperatures and hazard lights had wreaked havoc on my battery.  Of course, neither Brad nor I had jumper cables, nor know how to use them, so I grabbed my phone to call my friend Cody T. who works at a service station.  Rather than actually calling the right person, I accidentally called a student of mine, Cory T.  He was at home with the stomach flu and wasn't thrilled to hear from me. 

Brad and I decided it would be a wise investment for me to just buy some jumper cables and offerred to drive me to Emporia and back, but when I looked for my wallet I realized I had left it at home that morning.  Brad generously offerred to buy the jumper cables, so we headed to Flying J.

At that time, my friend Jillian was on her way home from work and knows how to use jumper cables, so I called her to ask her to stop and help.  Another passerby who happens to be an EMT in Chase County pulled over to make sure we were alright.  I'm sure it looked like we'd had a wreck considering my car was off the road in the grass and there were 3 total vehicles on the scene.  The dogs crossed the highway again while she was there, stopping traffic momentarily.  She radioed the Chase Count Sherriff's Department to tell them about the dogs and to have them come out and check on me.  Ironic, since I had stopped to rescue the dogs and ended up being in need of rescue myself.  She went on her way and I thanked Brad for his help and sent him on his way sure that Jillian and I could work the jumper cables.  We couldn't.  Finally a deputy showed up.  We had the cables hooked up correctly, but he stood there and wiggled the cables while I started the car. 

He told us that the Chase County Sherriff's Department had also been receiving calls about the dogs and that the day before, they had actually been laying ON the highway.  He said the owners had been contacted and would be coming to pick the dogs up.  Neither of us waited to see if that actually happened.  Jillian said she would follow me home just in case, which was good since I had a heck of a time even getting my two-wheel drive car back on to the highway. 

Two hours after pulling over, I was on my way home... again. 

The next day on my way home from work, the dogs were still in the field... eating the deer... watching the traffic, and I got a new battery.