As I age (quite disgracefully I might add) I’ve noticed that my attitude to the little beasties in this world is becoming more and more compassionate…which is a real bugger when you wanna go fishing down the river.
It’s the worms and the grubs mostly. I’m quite fond of worms and grubs. They do an amazing job aerating and fertilizing the soil, they don’t bite ya’ and just to see a pink wiggler wriggling through the dirt gives me a geriatric thrill like no other.
However, the worms and grubs also make great bait for catching the elusive trout and cod down the river. But in recent times, I’ve found it harder and harder to thread a wormie thing onto my hook. I FEEL GUILTY about killing the little shit-diggers, either via getting eaten by a fish on my line, or more likely, drowning while I cast out again and again (fruitlessly) waiting for a bite.
I’m quite serious about this. Using ‘dead’ bait doesn’t worry me at all of course, but there is something fundamentally wrong about kidnapping a defenceless worm from his/her home in the ground and impaling him/her on a sharpened hook just so’s I can catch a fish (or more likely, NOT, as the case may be).
Should I convert to Jainism?
(PS…I still kill blowflys with no regrets, and stomp bullants with a particular glee).