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Starting to agree with Akitu - these misspellings make my head hurt. (See, we do agree on something)
I'll give you a real life funny story as an apology. This year my son got his first squirrel by himself, and I took my daughter out with me for the first time on a hunt.
Every year my family gets together at the start of small game season for "Squirrel Camp." Mostly it's an excuse for everybody to get together, and take the kids out for a good time hunting. I took my son, Chris, out hunting last year with a borrowed .410 shotgun for him, with the intention of making sure he could hunt on his own safely. I always hunt with a .22 rifle, but I'm the only one who's a good enough shot and / or cocky enough to do it. (there's some stories behind that as well - You've got to be able to hit a quarter at 75 yards to kill one with a rifle, and I can easily hit a dime.)
I put Chris under a good Beech tree and told him I'd be over on the other side of the ridge for my own squirrels - of course I was on top of the ridge watching him the whole time, and I "barked" a few trying to send them his way (with a .22 I can nick a branch or piece of bark with the bullet to scare a squirrel and hope they run in his direction) He never did get one last year - scared a few - but what I was looking for was if he was being safe and responsible.
.410 shotguns are tiny and it's real hard to kill anything with them so we got him a nice 20 gauge for Christmas. A 20 doesn't kick as bad as a 12 gauge, but it's still big enough to hunt effectively. It was from a pawn shop, and it's not fancy, but it's a nice solid gun that shoots well. Load it with buckshot and he can hunt deer, put #7 1/2 or #9 in it and it's good for skeet or quail, and #6 high brass is perfect for squirrel. He went deer hunting after Christmas, but didn't come back with anything, so he was really excited for small game season to open this year.
My daughter, Hattie Grace, has been at camp since she was born, but this was the first year I was taking her out to hunt, and she wanted a squirrel tail to take to show and tell at school. (BTW she's 5 and my son is 13)
We got out in the woods, and it had been fairly dry, so I knew the only way we'd ever see anything was to "still hunt." I picked a nice tree to sit up under where we'd have a good view of a likely stand of trees and waited - not an easy task with a healthy 5 year old. We finally heard one behind us, and I slowly got us up and in a position to shoot. About the time I spotted it Gracie tugs on my pants, "Daddy, I gotta pee..."
"Perfect timing, little girl. Find a bush and don't pee in the Poison Ivy. I won't let it get away..."
So she's squatting while I had to take a shot before it zipped out of range. She was mostly wanting the tail and a story for school rather than the actual hunt, so no big deal, but he jumped at the last second and I missed anyway.
Of course now he's hiding up in the canopy for a minute or so, and Gracie is standing next to me when I get another shot.
"Did you get him daddy?!!"
"Nope. That's him up there shaking the leaves. Can't believe I missed again!"
So we wait there about 2 more minutes to see if he'll show himself again, and I'm just about to turn to my daughter and tell her we'll have to find another one when he decided to fall out of the tree and thump on the ground about 20 yards away. It just took him a minute to release his death grip on the tree - perfect shot, right in the armpit, heart and both lungs - he was gone in seconds, don't know why it took so long to fall.
That was good enough for Gracie - she had her tail and wanted to go back to camp and play with her cousin. Tried to convince her Brittany was still out hunting and we could come back with a few more squirrels and impress her friends, but there is no arguing with 5 year old logic.
So we're sitting around the campfire when my son comes in about 30 minutes later - mad as a hornet.
"No squirrels, Chris? Heard you shoot..."
"I shot one, and if the shot didn't kill it, the fall from the tree should have, and the branch that came down after him should have finished him off."
"So no squirrel?"
"I walked over to get him and he ran off."
"Did he go straight up a tree?"
"No, just took off."
"Then you hit him, and you better go find him. Clean kill next time, we don't leave anything wounded."
So he grabs our old sling blade and heads back into the woods - kinda thick brush in places, and he knows better to shoot at anything on the ground with so many hunters around. About a half hour later he comes back in holding one by the tail and says, "I had to finish him with the machete, but I got him."
Our Clan certainly has an odd reputation as hunters: I'm the only one who hunts small game with a .22 rifle, and my son is the only person to kill a squirrel with a machete.
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Originally Posted by MR Bill
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