Buckmeister
05-12-2008, 05:57 PM
I was reading through the "If you could relive one hunting moment" thread and enjoying the stories people had about instances that made them better hunters.
So share some of your experiences here about lessons learned.
Here's one of mine,
When I was around 12 or 13, it was the Aug long weedend and we were at a family reunion. My cousin and I decided to take a pelet gun and go across the road to the neighbors place, away from the family, and have some fun. I saw a squirel up above in a row of leafy trees. He stopped with his back to me and his head pointed up. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. It was the very first time I had shot at something living. I expected 1 of 2 things to happen: 1. to miss, or 2. to hit him and have him drop dead. Instead, I watched in horror as the shot hit him square on the spine right below the shoulders and instantly paralyzing his rear quarters. He began scrambling franticly with his front paws as he fell and climbed from branch to branch dragging his rear along. He disappeared out of sight and I never got a second shot. Feeling dread, fear and guilt, my cousin and I quickly returned to the house, put the gun away and agreed to not tell anyone what just happened.
That day, I learned alot about respecting the creatures I hunt, and when to pull or not pull the trigger.
So share some of your experiences here about lessons learned.
Here's one of mine,
When I was around 12 or 13, it was the Aug long weedend and we were at a family reunion. My cousin and I decided to take a pelet gun and go across the road to the neighbors place, away from the family, and have some fun. I saw a squirel up above in a row of leafy trees. He stopped with his back to me and his head pointed up. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. It was the very first time I had shot at something living. I expected 1 of 2 things to happen: 1. to miss, or 2. to hit him and have him drop dead. Instead, I watched in horror as the shot hit him square on the spine right below the shoulders and instantly paralyzing his rear quarters. He began scrambling franticly with his front paws as he fell and climbed from branch to branch dragging his rear along. He disappeared out of sight and I never got a second shot. Feeling dread, fear and guilt, my cousin and I quickly returned to the house, put the gun away and agreed to not tell anyone what just happened.
That day, I learned alot about respecting the creatures I hunt, and when to pull or not pull the trigger.