Edna went too. Edna liked to bark at the fish. Sometimes the fish barked back. Those were the dogfish. “I can’t miss with this,” Oliver said, waving his new rod. “Hand me a marshmallow, Arthur.” “We ate all the marshmallows,” Arthur said. “All we got left is worms.” “Marshmallows are better bait,” Oliver said. “This bozo smells,” Arthur said, handing over a worm. “You’d smell too if you’d croaked as long ago as he did,” Oliver said. The mosquitoes dive-bombed them, the sun walked across the sky, and the fish were not biting. “This is getting very boring,” Arthur said. In the distance, Edna barked. Long and loud. “Probably she’s going for a jackrabbit,” Oliver said. “She likes to chase jackrabbits even if she never catches one.” “Sort of like you and fishing,” Arthur said. “Whoa!” Oliver hollered. He had a bite. “Hang on! It’s a whopper! It’s a monster goon shark. I can see his razor-sharp teeth and his mean yellow eyes.” “Sounds like a tiger shark to me,”
