Dad and me long ago.
Posted: 13 May 2020 15:49
What I'm about to tell you is absolutely true. The story has been on my mind today so I thought I would share it. As a small child of about 8 I was already a veteran rabbit Hunter. My father and older brother had seen to that. My father is no longer with me but I cherish times like these.
We grew up knowing our father had a severe heart condition but that didn't keep him out of the fields. When we would hunt if the limit on rabbits was five that's how many shells he will give us. 5 shells 5 rabbits that was the goal. Dad had another rule that no rabbit was allowed to be shot on the set. He had this Theory right or wrong that if the rabbit was running it was probably healthy. Unlike the atmosphere that exist today even with his heart condition he was an avid smoker.
Early one crisp morning we were walking through a soybean field and my dad said son go up there on the right and kick that soybean pile I think there's a rabbit in it. . I did as he said and of course a rabbit ran and was quickly dispatched by my father. He exclaimed with some pride that's how you do it. And then he flicked his cigarette into the snow and we began walking. Next thing I knew he was lying on the ground rolling and screaming.
Being a young lad I have first thought he was having a heart attack and was scared to death. .
Here I was out in the field miles from home alone with my father and he is dying at least that's what I thought.
Turns out when he flicked a cigarette the wind blew it back in his coat pocket and caught his jacket on fire
Once he got his coat put out and I knew he was fine my tears dried up and he asked me why I was so upset and of course I didn't want to tell him so I asked him when I shoot a rabbit do I have to roll around in the snow like that and scream dad? We laughed all the way home.
No other day in the field has top that since.
Well now I am guess what you would call a little seasoned or maybe getting long in the tooth myself. My son never took to hunting or shooting in general but loves to fish and we have spent many days on the farm pond or river making your own memories and I hope he looks back what the same fondness I have for my father.
We grew up knowing our father had a severe heart condition but that didn't keep him out of the fields. When we would hunt if the limit on rabbits was five that's how many shells he will give us. 5 shells 5 rabbits that was the goal. Dad had another rule that no rabbit was allowed to be shot on the set. He had this Theory right or wrong that if the rabbit was running it was probably healthy. Unlike the atmosphere that exist today even with his heart condition he was an avid smoker.
Early one crisp morning we were walking through a soybean field and my dad said son go up there on the right and kick that soybean pile I think there's a rabbit in it. . I did as he said and of course a rabbit ran and was quickly dispatched by my father. He exclaimed with some pride that's how you do it. And then he flicked his cigarette into the snow and we began walking. Next thing I knew he was lying on the ground rolling and screaming.
Being a young lad I have first thought he was having a heart attack and was scared to death. .
Here I was out in the field miles from home alone with my father and he is dying at least that's what I thought.
Turns out when he flicked a cigarette the wind blew it back in his coat pocket and caught his jacket on fire
Once he got his coat put out and I knew he was fine my tears dried up and he asked me why I was so upset and of course I didn't want to tell him so I asked him when I shoot a rabbit do I have to roll around in the snow like that and scream dad? We laughed all the way home.
No other day in the field has top that since.
Well now I am guess what you would call a little seasoned or maybe getting long in the tooth myself. My son never took to hunting or shooting in general but loves to fish and we have spent many days on the farm pond or river making your own memories and I hope he looks back what the same fondness I have for my father.