By the way....

My Dad has always told me the story about the days that his poor Italian immigrant family used to eat "marsh rabbit". My grandpa Frank would go out and capture these marsh rabbits and bring them home for my grandma to cook.

Turns out that "marsh rabbit" was muskrat. It seems that my grandma didn't like the idea of eating something with the word rat in it. \:\)


Holding a redear sunfish is like running with scissors.