Everett joined Jeremy and I for a day of fishing up at the Weber River. He's got a pretty rough life for a dog. As you can see here, he's pretty much miserable.The fishing was slow (OK, nonexistent) so Jeremy and I motored up to some fishier waters. Being the considerate guy that he is Jeremy gave me first shot at the run. I had made three or four casts when I heard some commotion behind me....
(Re-enactment)
Only to find a very sad Jeremy, and a very broken fly rod. Everett, deep in stick-munching had accidentally bitten through Jeremy's fly rod, breaking off the tip of his Scott which has been sent back about four times already.
We tried to tell Everett what a BAD DOG he'd been:
But I don't think he really believed us.
And we really didn't mean it either. He's suchagoodboy. We fished a few minutes more on the rod that I was using, but nothin seemed to be interested. We ended up heading back to Salt Lake and playing some tennis - something I haven't done in many years, and thankfully, something that there are no pictures of.
We tried to tell Everett what a BAD DOG he'd been:
But I don't think he really believed us.
And we really didn't mean it either. He's suchagoodboy. We fished a few minutes more on the rod that I was using, but nothin seemed to be interested. We ended up heading back to Salt Lake and playing some tennis - something I haven't done in many years, and thankfully, something that there are no pictures of.
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