Comments
half-a-duck t1_iyf3hvb wrote
I killed a possum. I was 6. I felt good until I saw my younger brother crying about it. The possum was destroying my grandparent's garden so it was going to die anyway.
Piri_Reis96 t1_iyf6xc5 wrote
a dove. felt hungry so i told my cousin to roast it and i ate it
Sarcastic_Troll t1_iyf7w2b wrote
I don't remember how old I was, but I shot somethin. My dad was happy so I guess I was happy too.
We weren't really hunters, but my dad wanted us to make sure we could shoot, and shoot moving targets. He was the type you see in movies about southern hicks, the greet you with a Barrell of his gun if you come on his property type.
redheadalmostdead t1_iyfd4io wrote
I shot a deer when I was thirty. My husband had started bow hunting so I took the rifle I had bought him and shot my own. The feeling I had was that I had tortured the animal. I shot him first in the backside and he ran about a mile. The second shot I broke a leg. Then he sat down in a small ravine and I knelt down and got a better shot for the kill. I never hunted again since I wasn't a good enough to kill him with one shot. I didn't care enough for hunting to practice enough to get good.
DreamingStoner420 t1_iyf3dy3 wrote
not a hunter but when i was 12 i killed a bird with bb cried for 2 days