Amen about the attitude a gar packs.
all teeth and fins-

Bob- as an average East Texan, (and you know how that is!) I NEVER heard a foul word out of my Grandmother, 'til one evening on a creek feeding the red River, not far from Avery, Texas. The whole famdamily was fishin', catchin' mostly perch and cat, and she suddenly hollered like she was just filled with the Spirit. I was smaller then, but that fish looked like he was six feet when he broke water like a marlin, and Big Mama screamed Gawd-Dam, Son,--it's a GAR! It was trashin' and growlin and fussin and cussin and I swear, tryin' to get BigMama. Dad cut the line, and then I knew to do the same at the earliest opportunity, should it ever happen to me.

I've heard the gar referred to as the Freshwater
Barracuda (I'd say Great White!)

Well, there was this one OTHER time on the farm at Avery when BigMama was pickin' some kinda vegetables, and had her long dress pulled up in front to her knees, to form a basket for the veggies....something brushed the front of her leg, and she damned near shed the dress right there.
That field was bad for cottonmouths.

The offender turned out just to be a corn snake, but BM left the field for the day, steamin'....