When I was young, I remember my Dad going
hunting a few times with one or another of my uncles but as far I know
the only thing they killed was six-packs of beer. One year my Dad did
kill something and my brothers and I helped carry back his prey.
We were living in Brainard, NY, near the
Massachusetts border. It was was a harsh winter, and the snow was piled
high. I was in kindergarten, and Shane and Dan were 4 and 3
respectively. Dad bundled us up in our snowsuits and we set out to get
our Christmas tree. It was cold, and the snow was piled so high that we
had to stay in his footsteps to keep from falling down; even so, by the
time we found the perfect huge pine, we were exhausted.
Dad must have known that we'd never be
able to wait for him to chop it down, so he said, "Okay kids back
up." and he took out his shotgun and shot down the tree!
We cheered ! So twilight found us
tromping back through the woods dragging our prey. It was one of the
prettiest trees ever and we had a great time getting it.
Merry Christmas to All
Kathi Larkin
Albuquerque, New Mexico USA
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