Woodcocks and Rivalry

My dad took Luke hunting. It was debatable whether or not he could actually shoot straight as he's not really shown a whole lot of interest in guns. Pappy had Luke shoot at a fence post, aiming in the center - meaning halfway up the post. Luke hit center, meaning smack dab between right and left. The boy has aim.

Luke came back from his first hunting trip with a woodcock. It was dead. He shot it and was proud. I had to question what it was and what he intended to do with it. In a kind and compassionate way, of course. One can't hurt the feelings of a first time hunter who tends to be a Drama King when his feelings are trampled. (Who eats woodcocks? Why would someone shoot one?)

"Mom, Grandma has a picture of me with the woodcock, but can you take one on your camera, too?"

Sure, buddy, I'd be glad to.

"Mom, I'm going to write a thank-you card to Pap for taking me hunting."

That would be a good idea. He would probably really like that.

Dear Pappy,

Thanks for taking me hunting for my very first time. I have been praying for a long time now that I could shoot something and kill it my very first time that I go and thanks to you, I did. Thank you very, very, very much.

Love, Luke
And while you're ooohing and aaaahing over the sweetness of a letter over death and killing, just know that this is a 9 year old boy's way of getting a dig in at his 13 year old brother who has been trapping for several weeks and has yet to get anything other than his bait taken. If he could have, he would have just written Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner on the walls and walked away happy.


the planet of janet said...

wow. really?

um. ew?

Flea said...

Is that thing part rabbit part bird or what? He does look like a happy boy, though. More power to the powerful hunter!