Our boys don't hunt (yet). My husband grew up in a hunting family and is always in search of hunting buddies. He had hoped his sons would come around. But they were raised in the city, and I guess it's just different when you can't simply throw your gear in the truck, jump in, and head for the woods for the day. Hunting for them would have involved being out of school for a week or two, and then coming home to severe heckling, negative peer pressure, and harassment.
I know this because that's exactly what happened to our younger son when he came back from his very first hunt at the tender young age of twelve, having bagged his first buck. Just about anywhere else, this milestone would have been heralded as a young man's coming of age. My son's experience was quite the opposite, except at home, where we were so proud of him. But we do not live in a place that has a hunting culture. Some kids at school were appalled and treated him badly, shaming him. And that's too bad.
Even though our boys didn't take to hunting (yet), they have now decided that target shooting is fun, and they've become quite proficient. This is a source of much encouragement for my husband. And even better, they invited him to go shooting with them today!
And so, off they went, the three of them, out to the range for the day. I imagine my husband will share some good hunting stories with them, tales from his grandfather and father, passing down family lore from father to sons. And, truth be told, that's what he'd hoped to be able to do with them all along, albeit on hunting expeditions. So, the result will be there, even if the means aren't quite what he'd hoped for (yet). I wonder if the targets they pick up at the store will be the bull's eye kind, or if they will be the kind with a picture of a deer. Who knows? This could turn out to be a hunt, after all. The same thing, only different.
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