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I Shot A Gun Yesterday
Before I go into the story, let me give you a little background information so you’ll understand where I’m coming from.
I grew up with a father who was an avid hunter and fisher. At least once a week we would go out in his little fishing boat. I would drive the boat and net the fish. We’d go home and I’d watch him fillet it and we’d check out the stomach contents to see what it was eating.
As a kid, it was interesting. Plus, I got to spend quality time with my dad.
Each year he would go on several hunting trips. It wasn’t unusual for us to eat elk spaghetti or deer backstrap.
Half the time when my dad would be planning a hunting trip, he’d ask me if I wanted to go along with him. Every single time, I’d say no.
I have no issue with people who hunt. I, myself, raise quail to process for meat.
What I have a problem with is guns.
To me, a gun holds the potential of so much power that it freaks me out. I don’t want to hold a tool in my hand that has the power of ending someone or something’s life in a split second. I just don’t have it in me. Just the thought of it sends my heart racing.
We live in a very rural area. We have five acres of land, half of which is a complete jungle. We don’t venture very far into it because of that…