Hunting Made Me Gay

There are 6 kids in my family. I am the 4th child, the 1st boy after 3 older sisters.

My dad was overjoyed to finally have a son so we could do all those boy things. We played catch in the backyard, fixed things around the house, and went hunting.

I remember those Saturday hunting trips fondly. We always stopped for treats at the gas station. I actually learned to drive (at age 12) out on one of those hunting trips. It was fun to spend that time alone with my dad.

Despite my fond memories of the outings, I just didn't really like the dead ducks. My dad was a school teacher and we had a relatively large family so we certainly didn't have a lot of money. But, we weren't really out hunting to feed the family. In fact, I only remember my dad cooking a duck once and I remember it stunk up the house and tasted funny.

So I remember one time we were sitting in our duck blind and some ducks flew right over us. My dad shot and a duck fell from the sky practically landing on us in the blind. I was too young to hunt at the time, maybe 9 or 10 years old, so my dad was the shooter and I was there as moral support.

As we waited for more ducks to fly over, I remember looking at that dead duck laying on the ground. It was a male Mallard so it was a very pretty creature. I kept looking away because its dead duck eye was staring at me. I would have closed its eyes (like you see on TV) except apparently ducks don't have eyelids.

I remember feeling worse and worse as I looked at its lifeless green head. It really made me sad.

My hunting career didn't last much longer after that. I started going less and less frequently. Luckily my younger brother came along and took over as my dad's hunting partner.

I'm not anti-hunting. Others can do it all they want...it's just not for me.

The End

Coming Soon:

Part 2 of the series

Scout Camp Made Me Gay