Dog, Meet Fish

In the summer heat of Eastern Ontario, where the Rideau River approaches the Ottawa, there lurks a carnivorous predator: The Northern Pike.

One of the most fearsome fish to swim the two rivers, the Northern Pike can have over 700 razor-sharp teeth. These great fish are particular creatures, swimming in water between 18-20 degrees Celsius. They are among the animals sitting on the “Least Concern” list of conservation, and are known most commonly by their street name, Pike.

Pike can average about 40-50 centimeters in length, decorated by horizontal spots along their sides. Pike are misunderstood, often confused with their cousins, the Muskellunge, or Musky as they’re known colloquially, whose markings are horizontal, like a zebra’s.

Pike are typical ambush predators. They lie in murky, slow, shallow waters, awaiting their prey. When the food is scarce, they turn to cannibalism, eating their friends and families. Smaller Pike hide among the thick weeds so their brothers and sisters do not turn on them.

Although Pike are aggressive and energetic, they are vulnerable when mishandled by man. The mucus coating their bodies can dry out, putting the fish at risk for infection. Nonetheless, they continue to heed the calls of the Wooly Bugger and play with sport and conservation fisherpeople alike.

It is, therefore, easy to see how the German Shepherd-Rottweiler-Black Lab canine mix would fear the average-sized creature.

On one sunny afternoon in early September, a young, newly-married couple hitched their boat to the SUV they bought themselves as a wedding present, and headed out to the river. As he had been alone for a few hours already in the work day, their beloved dog, Max, would have been so hot and lonely stuck in the house while they were gone, so the newlyweds brought him along for a swim and a cruise not too far from where they call home. Active outdoors people, the pair would not pass up the opportunity to get a little catch-and-release in before the season closed.

On an average fishing excursion, the male fisherman would cast about 400 times, attracting nearly ten bites. He was honing his skill, learning the gentle techniques of his newly acquired baitcaster. The female was experienced on her reel, amassing over 37 Pike and one Bass in one week. This particular trip, however, she had landed approximately zero. On days like this, she referred to herself as a vegan fisherwoman, reeling in massive amounts of seaweed, and, as always, at least one tree branch.

Waiting for its prey, the Pike waited patiently to “flash” its meal: holding steady until it was ready to strike quickly and unexpectedly. The male cast for the 401st time, dropping a sparkly blue Texas Rig into the river, jerking it slightly. Without another thought, the Pike struck the lure, realising too late that it was a trap.

Thrashing violently through the water, the fish resisted the male’s tug toward the boat. In both male and female fishermen, this exchange releases endorphins and dopamine, causing their adrenaline to spike: The thrill of the catch.

Max, the canine mix, was a domesticated creature. In his nearly eight years on Earth, he had never seen a fish before. He looked on curiously, but protectively, as his master spun the crank on the strange, bending tool. As the Pike broke the surface, Max quickly retreated to the front of the boat, as far away from the strange-looking animal as he could get. It was, he observed, not a squirrel.

The female held the catch in the net, while the male took the hook out of its mouth. Using a scale and some clamps, they weighed the fish. It was a system they had comfortably employed during their summer of fishing. However, the process was new to the dog.

Showing a clear sign of fear and uncertainty, the canine approached the fish tentatively. At the first flop of its tail, Max cowered toward the bow of the boat; what on Earth is this creature?

Humans expect their canine companions to be fearless and protective, but nature shows that in the face of a fish, a dog becomes fearful and wary. Perhaps the pup was too domesticated. At 2lbs 15oz, the predatory fish had proven that he really is the king of the river... for now.