There was a time when the only daytime programming on Sundays seemed to rotate between golf, bowling competitions, and programs about fishing.  This was long before I was vegetarian or vegan, and yet, I still felt relieved that when they caught the fish, they released them.  I felt better about the whole affair knowing those fish on TV that I could see alive with my own eyes were going free.  Now that I don’t eat animals, the scenario feels very different to me.  There is an argument amongst those who fish and those who do not about if fish feel pain with a hook in their mouths, stressed, unable to breathe, and fighting for their lives.  What if it were the other way around, would it still seem so nebulous?  What if the hunted were the hunters?  What if?

Daniel Mudd was not an extraordinary man, and today was not an extraordinary day.  He was just a man complaining of the summer heat and venturing to the beach for a bite.  When he saw that sandwich sitting on the picnic table and no one else around, he should have been suspicious.  He should have been.  Instead, with a pitter-patter across the sand, he sat down by the water and prepared to nibble.  Stale bread, sticky peanut butter, and then… a prickling pain.  With a chomp, a hook latched into his lip.  Frantic and writhing, he tried to pull away.  With that tender pull, his lip throbbed, pierced by the jagged hook.  And then the unthinkable happened…  In a whoosh, he was pulled into the water.  Down, and down, and down, the water burning his throat.  And as he choked, he struggled, trying to break free.  Gasping, flailing, sucking, gagging on the water…  By now it was in his lungs, and he wondered if this is how it would all end…

The Fin Family was not an extraordinary family. They were just fish spending a day near the beach, catching some humans, and enjoying the warm summer water.  They’d done this every summer since who knows when and they would continue to do it for who knows how long.  It was tradition. 

“I’ve got one, Dad!” Ace cried out.  ”It’s so fun when they put up a fight!”

“I don’t believe it, son.  First catch of the day right out of the gate.  Well done!”

Ace pulled and pulled against the weight of Daniel, who was now struggling quite fiercely, fighting against death which was riding towards him quickly now. 

“This one has spirit, Dad!” Ace squealed excitedly.

With that, Dad joined in, pulling against the fishing pole with all of his might.

And so Daniel came to them, flapping and flailing, contorting and shaking. 

“Smile, Ace,” Dad said, pointing the camera at his boy, who was holding up Daniel, still hanging by the hook in his mouth.  If Daniel hadn’t been so worried for his life, maybe he would have worried that the hook would tear his lip, ripping it apart altogether.  Or since he was so worried about his life, maybe he should have hoped that his lip would rip, leaving him free to swim away.

Ace smiled for the camera, pleased as a peach. 

“You blinked.” Dad said disapprovingly. 

And so it went.  Picture.  Picture.  Picture.  While Daniel was withering.

“Okay,” Dad said.  “Let’s throw him back.”

And so they did.  They threw him back, through the waves and the current and into the air, until he landed with a thud against the hard, sandy beach again.  He gasped and wheezed and hoped that he would live while his lip bled.

Dad slapped the back of Ace, proud of his son, and the lessons he was learning.  It was humane, after all, and downright charitable to catch and release, and let the humans live another day.  The Fins’ just wanted some time at the beach in the warm summer waters enjoying each other and catching a few humans.