Every day after school Biddy would go down to the lake to feed the fish. A good dozen trout used to wait for her, and then dart around excitedly when she appeared. They knew her and Biddy knew them. She even had names for some of them: Spot, Rainbow, Shadow, Speedy…
One day her mother said, “Why don’t you catch one for dinner? There’s plenty there, and one less fish won’t matter.”
So Biddy did that. She got a little fishing line, and fortunately caught one of the trout that didn’t have a name.
But none of the fish ever came back to see Biddy again. They disappeared into the depths of the lake. She had lost their trust.
Weave a Web 
Poor Biddy.
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She was hooked on them fish…
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No trout in its right mind would trust Biddy ever again. A sad little tale.
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It happened to me when I rented a place with a small lake. The fish came everyday, until the landlord arrived with a net and caught two. I never saw any of them again!
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You are employing your memories to great effect.
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I can’t understand trout – let alone think we could communicate with “aliens”!
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I learned to tickle trout as a boy. Fortunately they never tickled me back.
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I think tickling is a nicer way to go than with a hook.
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