Life as a Catfish

Larry and I launched my brother-in-law's pontoon on the lake the other day. I was in the boat as Larry backed it into the water down our ramp with the truck. I was looking over the stern, watching to make sure the wheels stayed on the ramp when I spied a very large catfish swimming onto the boat ramp...very slowly. I yelled to him, "Better get a move on, Catfish, or we'll run you over!" He just kept crawlin' along.

I yelled to Larry, "Pull up! You're gonna go off the ramp." So he pulled up just as we got very close to the huge fish meandering across the ramp under water. I was relieved. This fish was huge! It was the biggest catfish I've ever seen. The feelers on his nose were actually thick as well as long. He was a big boy! Larry pulled up and we started to back down again.

As we backed down the ramp, I saw the fish in the center of the ramp getting very close to the trailer wheels. "Hurry up fish. You're gonna get squished!" I was getting very concerned and realized I was in the middle of a moral dilemma: do we just say to hell with the stupid fish and run over him, or wait until he crosses the ramp and out of harm's way. My first thought was to keep going to let Darwin take care of the fish. My second thought was guilt about thinking the first thought.

"Pull up one more time, Larry. You're almost there," I yelled once more. The fish moved so slowly across the ramp. "Will you get a move on, please, Mr. Fish?" I can't take this any more! Larry pulled up to straighten the trailer once more, and began backing down the ramp again. I noticed this time that as we got to the water's edge, Mr. Catfish was just passing over the other end of the ramp and out of our way. Thank God, I thought. I would have felt really bad about squishing such a huge fish. What kind of mess would it have made on our shoreline? Then, I couldn't believe I would have considered just running it over...again. What kind of person am I?

We backed the boat into the lake, and I maneuvered it up next to our dock the most successfully I ever have. Because my docking was so smooth and efficient, I felt rewarded for sparing the life of that catfish. Is this the Buddha in me? I don't know. I just felt grateful he saved himself and we didn't have to deal with cleaning up fish guts.

P.S. I just realized after writing this piece what really bothered me about the catfish. He must have heard the wheels coming toward him underwater, but the sound didn't startle him a bit. He just took his sweet time searching for whatever morsels of food he could find on the ramp. I'm sure he could swim fast if he needed to, but he didn't bother to do it even when I could no longer see him under the outboard motor. Didn't he care? Or did he just know he'd get out of the way in time if he had to. Searching for food on that ramp was the most important thing to him. I don't know if I could take such a risk in life. Maybe that's what bothered me. Does he have more faith than I do that everything will be ok no matter how dire things appear?