I let him try so he would learn about how things die, and when it
was apparent that the fish wasn't going to swim again, he
remembered that his grandma had promised to cook his fish for him
to eat.

That meant, I told him, that we needed to catch another fish.
The first one wasn't good any longer. This time he succeeded in
catching several and we let grandma cook them for him.

In a few weeks he goes off to college. My, how time flies.

Aren't memories wonderful? I have a picture of my son (these kids dad)
when he was less than two years old looking down the mouth of a
Speckled Trout. He was absolutely fascinated with animals - I thought
sure he would become a vet.