My father has always enjoyed hunting.
I can actually remember when he first took me out with him to go deer hunting. I thought it would be great fun, but it turned out that it wasn’t for me. Sure, I enjoy some good venison when we get it, but I didn’t realize how brutal it was to go hunting. We were out there in the cold weather and I kept thinking about how much I would rather be at home with the gas furnace working and relaxing in front of the fireplace. Out there in the woods, we didn’t have a portable heating system or anything. When my father spotted the buck, he wanted me to take a shot with my rifle. I had practiced shooting with him on numerous occasions and I was a pretty good shot. The thing is, I saw this deer and I didn’t want to kill it. I felt like it was wrong somehow and while I was pointing at the deer, I actually missed on purpose. The deer went running and got away, and my father seemed to be disappointed but he said I would get him next time. We ended up going home empty handed and I never told my father that I missed the deer on purpose. He kept saying that he thought I would have hit my target for sure, but he admitted that it was really cold so maybe that affected my shot. I was just grateful to be back at home with the gas furnace keeping me warm and relaxing in front of the fireplace. When my father asked me to go hunting after that, I always made excuses not to go.