Well, here's one to ponder for you seasoned hunters.
I have an unending YEARNING to hunt. To scout, track, learn, explore, play the big chess game with the animals I hunt. I have to. I enjoy when the hard work pays off, the gods kick in a bit of mojo, and I get to take my well practiced shot. I love to accept the personal struggle of gutting, skinning, dragging out game in exchange for my well placed shot.
But MAN, call me a wussbag. I was looking today at a buck I took years ago , and couldn't help but wonder about his life before I ended it. What did HE learn? What battles did he fight and win? From button buck to his massiveness when I took him....no one will ever know. It all happened without anyone seeing it. What would he have endured if I hadn't taken him?
I'm proud to have taken every animal that I have with the recurve. Black bears, whitetails, bull and cow elk, bison, wild boar, rabbit, pheasant, grouse, beaver, red stag, raccoon, fox, squirrels, etc. etc.
But I have a sadness that hits me with every kill. Bison to squirrel, they had their struggles in life that no one knows about, and I respect that so damn much. It hasn't stopped me from loosing an arrow yet, but it is always in my mind.
Even years later looking back on different hunts, I smile, I relish the fond memories but feel sadness also.
Such a strange thing we hunters are a part of. The animals feel no remorse upon their kills or dominance won. Hyenas feeding on a LIVE cape buffalo stuck in the mud from the butt end forward, is a good example. But as humans we( some of us anyway) suffer slightly inside when we take a life. But we have a burning desire to attempt nothing less again and again.
Not looking for answers, just my thoughts this afternoon.
We are a very lucky bunch to get to hunt for enjoyment as well as food, instead of hunting for sheer survival like the critters we pursue.
I need to go sit in front of a good fire for awhile, I'm one lucky SOB.