My Dad Was A Hunter

When we were growing up in the forty's, my dad enjoyed hunting with his friends. I think that he enjoyed the sport and that he could add the daily catch to whatever we were to eat. In those days there was little money, and what there was went to buy only necessities. So we grew and preserved most of what we ate. Dad was a good shot and frequently brought home rabbits, squirrels, pheasants, and, once, a deer. Mom would then boil and then fry the dressed meat, and we had a great addition to our meal. Of course, you had to look out for pieces of buckshot in the meat when you ate the game, as they are hard on your teeth, and lead is not good in your diet. The year he got his deer was the year that his friends first set up some rolling targets and practiced by leading the rolling target with the shotgun and then anticipating where it would be before firing. Apparently, the practice helped, as most, if not all, of the men got a deer that year. Usually though, he would come home with only small game for us to eat. My mom always told Dad to wait at the house, and about a half hour after the men had gone hunting, he could shoot a deer as it ran by, having been scared by the other hunters. He never did listen to her though, as he wanted to be out hunting with his friends. However, on most years Mom would be proven right, and a half hour into the hunt, a deer would safely run by our house.