RELUCTANT HUNTER

My dad was a wonderful father and I loved him dearly, but we were different when it came to animals. He loved to hunt and fish. I loved to fish but couldn't stand the thought of killing an animal.

When he would return from a hunting trip, I would go to my room. I couldn't stand the sight of the bloody things - whatever they might be.

I tried not to think of the animals when mom served us such things as Brunswick Stew laced with squirrel meat, or dad's favorite - Fried Rabbit with Gravy, or Venison Steaks.

When I turned 14, dad decided it was time I learned to hunt. "Dad," I pleaded, "I really don't want to kill anything."

"Nonsense!" he said, "once you get out there in the woods, you'll love it."

So, we set out one morning for instruction on my brand new "410 Over-And-Under"--a combination shotgun and rifle. Dad showed me how to load it and carry it safely and we spent a good hour firing at targets at various ranges. I didn't mind firing the gun; it was actually fun.

"O.K," he said, "we're ready to bag some squirrels!" As we moved through the woods, he showed me how to keep my eyes scanning ahead instead of down at my feet. After a short while, we finally saw a squirrel climb along a tree branch and jump into a clump of leaves.
"Right there!" dad said, "He's building a nest."

We crept silently to the base of the tree and he whispered: "Now put your gun here against the tree and sight right into the nest."
"Dad," I said worriedly, "I really don't want to kill it. You do it and I'll just watch."

"Nonsense Boy!" he growled, "Now sight along the barrel and squeeze off a shot."

I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. It seemed like an eternity before the gun exploded. My ears were still ringing when dad shouted-

"Whooee boy! You hit the jackpot!"

I looked on the ground and there were five squirrels squirming in the leaves: two adults and three babies. I had just slaughtered an entire family.

With tears streaming down my face, I threw my new gun to the ground and ran out of the woods. My dad was silent when he got back to the car with my gun and the squirrels.

I never went hunting again.