Andrew's Adventures

Man’s Best Fishing Buddy

Wed, February 08, 2012

Of all the people in this world whom interact with and know, I can communicate with two without having to actually communicate with them.

Telepathy is a powerful tool.

One is my cousin, and the other is my dog.

For instance, my dog Nika [knee-ka] is a human in disguise.

Fishing buddies come and go. I’ve learned that some are better than others, that’s for sure.

It has been said that a dog is man’s best friend. This proverb has never been more true than the relationship experienced between an angler and his dog.

Fishing dogs are loyal, willing participants of the wild adventures we pursue. I hate to say this, but they don’t ask hundreds of questions like my mother, complain and display negative attitudes like a high-maintenance woman, or become annoying. And they seldom get tired like some folks whom I fish with.

The connection I have with my dog is deep enough to wonder whether or not she inherently understands the sport of fishing. It also makes me wonder if she truly understands why I fish so much and love it even more.

Most dogs love the water and the fast boat rides across the lake. In addition, they are seemingly oblivious to inclement weather, and are perfectly happy when they see bass by the bunches be caught, or a big musky torpedo the boatside.

Usually when I pack up the vehicle and get ready for my next adventure, whether it’s here in Chicago or else at my other home up north, my dog exhibits behavior that can only be described as sincere hope that her name is on my itinerary. If she gets to go she expresses something rare and precious in this world; thankfulness and appreciation. If she is left behind at home, she gets pissy and won’t want to see me.

Like all who get jealous of what I do, I don’t blame her.

On days we fish, upon arrival at the boat landing she will scout the immediate area while impatiently waiting for me to launch the boat. I must admit that I am very meticulous when it comes to getting my boat and gear in order. I am an OCD fisherman. While I fart around to make sure everything is in order, my dog always gives me the look. That look is a stare, with the facial expression of “Hurry your ass up and let’s go!” When I sense that body language, I always reassure her that we have all day long to fish.

I speak for all dog owners here: We enjoy our canine companions in nearly everything we do. We share our experiences, our food, our accommodations, our feelings, and our souls with each other. This connection runs so deep that when the tragic day we lose them arrives, we experience a profound sense of loss. We have truly lost something that is irreplaceable.

I lost my first dog to a brain tumor nine years ago. It was the worst day of my life. That worst day turned into the worst week, followed by the worst month ever until I formed a relationship with this buddy a few months later.

I don’t know if I believe in heaven, but I do think there is an afterlife somewhere out there. If dogs don’t go to heaven, then I don’t want to go. Because if not, it likely won’t be a happy and harmonious place.

If you have a dog, you know what it is like to have a friend that totally loves you and asks for nothing but the same in return. If you don’t have a dog who fishes with you, you are missing out on one of the great, most enjoyable aspects there is to fishing.

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