Daryl: A Crawdad Conundrum A True Story by Daryl Radajak. Their wide eyed, slack jawed, teary eyed stare told the story. They were faced with a difficult decision that was about to teach them a life lesson about life itself. My boys and I spent the better part of the morning walking along a clear, cold running creek in western New York. One would think the highlight of our backwoods adventure was the beautiful velvet ten point buck we caught sneaking along the water's edge. But it wasn't. Instead, our prized possession ambled lazily about the bottom of a faded old blue beach pail, the kind with the cheap white plastic handles. Inside its keep scurried about two dozen of Mother Nature's finest-looking crawdads, or crayfish, as those northern folks like to call them. The morning was spent teaching my two boys to catch crawdads. It only took a few tries for our nine-year-old son Jared to get the catching technique down, red solo cup serving as our instruments of capture. Once he realized their first move is always a straight shot backwards, he anticipated well and positioned the red plastic trap perfectly. Of course, those elusive ones that skirted the cup and brushed his hand or his foot caused him to start quite a bit. But I didn't care. The smile on his face and giggle in his voice assured me he was in no danger whatsoever. Ryan, my six year old, was a totally different story. He was trying to rewrite my age old crawdad catching instructions. He couldn't quite figure out why you couldn't just reach down and grab them where they sat. Though he tried with all his might, he just couldn't get close enough to grab a hold of one. When they shot clear of his five-fingered claw, he wasn't near as startled by the mini lobsters as his older brother, but that was simply because he wasn't taught to be afraid of them. I was thankful for that, but after a while I finally convinced him to let the cup do the catching. Needless to say, the morning was glorious and before long the midday sun was reminding us that Grandma would soon have lunch waiting for the boys. I looked down to see the boys tally. Though they had initially started keeping track of who caught more, it was soon apparent that Jarrett was going to win that contest. Fortunately though, Ryan bested him in the biggest crawdad category, so each boy was beaming from ear to ear. That's when I dropped a bomb on them. I didn't even think twice before giving the order. We had to hike back up to the main road and start heading home so I wasn't about to lug a big old pail full of water. My simple words were Alright boys, dump out. You would think I just sold our family dog to the neighbors for an ice cold coke. Both boys stood in shock, not believing what they just heard. What do you mean, dump out? We just caught them, was my son's exasperated cry. I then explained how we needed to get home, but my words fell on deaf ears. They cannot understand why they couldn't just keep them. And thus began the lesson. When I had finished explaining how Mother Nature created the perfect system and that animals were not meant as an instrument of play, but rather of respect or nourishment, I left the boys with only two options. One, we could relieve the bucket of its contents and return the crawdads to their watery crevices, knowing full well we can enjoy yet another day pursuing them. Or two, they become dinner. The boy's desire to take them home to play with, at the creature's expense, no less, was simply not going to be an option. Life is simply too valuable to disregard no matter the size of the creature. Save insects, of course, you can always squash those biting bothersome kinds. Needless to say, Grandma wasn't too happy her good cooking pot smelt of creek water after that day, but the crawdads sure made for fine fare that evening. And yes, it was Even the six year old was sucking the meat out of the tiny but tasty tails. I was ever so thankful for that long ago creekside lesson because it was one that instilled a reverence in my boys. Whether it be from the pull of a trigger or the setting of a hook, they now understand they're staking a claim to an animal's life, and that need not ever be taken lightly. If only more folks could learn lessons from crowds. Life lesson. Teach your kids that life is precious and never to be wasted. Remember, though, that death is a vital and ever-present event within nature. If a life is to be taken, it should only be for good reason. Humans, along with countless other animals, often depend on other animals for food, and nothing in nature ever goes to waste. Nature is a never-ending circle of life. From the tiniest single-celled organisms to the greatest of blue whales, we all live in that same web of life.