SHOOT!

So it was i started back on that road to matrimony. But first I took up hunting again. I don't really understand what the connection was, but as soon as I proposed I had an incredible urge to load the gun and hit the woods. For years i'd done little more than "hypothetical hunts" with my brother and father. It was all about getting the shot and not taking it. None of my urbane friends hunted. But now something pure and primal came over me. I wanted to get the shot... and take it. I had to get back in the woods.
It had been about 20 years since I'd hunted seriously, so I started small. I borrowed Star's little Browning .22 auto and went in search of squirrels. Then, not only did i clean, cook and eat them, I made art pieces with their salted hides and fuzzy tails. This was all the excuse that was needed to turn a past time into an obsession. I rediscovered the joy of sitting by myself in the cold dawn and warm twilight listening for the snap of a twig or a flash of movement.. Then Yummy mentioned how she would like to learn to hunt also. Why not? I was excited about teaching the future Mrs. Yummy how to make a clean shot, gut and pluck a bird and cook it up.
By now the old man had turned me onto turkey hunting and there was no going back to squirrels. I devoured outdoor magazines, learned how to call and loaded down with camo. Yummy dug the camo fashions and was a natural shot. In the beginning it was all good.... a loving couple walking afield with loaded firearms. What could be more wholesome? But then it came time to pull the trigger on a live animal and not everyone is wired for that step. Add to that the fact that it was no longer possible for me to spend a peaceful day in the woods...alone and I was questioning the monster I created. If i made a move for my hunting boots Yummy was already at the door wagging her tail and panting like an excited bird dog.
"Relax. He's just over that ridge." I whispered in my love's ear, as she hyperventilated and ground her teeth. "I know. I know." she hissed back. The tom gobbled a sphincter loosening rumble and stuck his head up. I waited for her to shoot. And waited..... and waited. Finally I said "Shoot." The tom heard me, ducked his head and disappeared into the laurel. "Why didn't you shoot?" I asked in a calm concerned tone. It was the wrong question. She laid into me with both barrels, (figuratively speaking). I was a lousy teacher, a miserable boyfriend, the bird was too far, too close, too alive. What did I expect? How could anyone even consider marrying me? "I'm going back to the car." she said, and got smaller and smaller as she steamed across the field. Ahhhhh. The peace and quiet of mother nature.