My grandpa had quite a bit of land that I hunted as a youth. I remember getting up before daylight, take my 22 or 410 and head to the woods for squirrels. About midmorning walk the mile to the store as I approached the front door there would be a line of guns leaning against the wall outside the stores door. I would place mine there and go inside, get a coke and candy bar if I had the change and proceed to the back of store where all the other local kids had gathered by the pot bellied stove. We would tell tall tales about how big a squirrel we shot or the big buck we flushed out while hunting for little while. Then one by one we would all meander out grab our guns and head back to our next adventure until we had to be home. Never giving a thought about anything happening to all those guns leaned against the wall in plain view while inside.
Us kids would get together every Saturday and go rabbit hunting on Papa's place as everyone called him. We would designate who would be the rabbit dogs and who was shooters. Sometimes only getting couple rabbits sometimes a dozen or more. Then we would head back to the store by 4pm cause we new that's when Mr. Sanders would be there. Mr Sanders was a rabbit hunter but had got up in years close to 90 and couldn't get around to good but still loved rabbit meat. He would buy whatever rabbits we had shot sometimes he payed to much for what we had brought but he wanted to here the tale how each one was taken. Those were some
Good days! Very Good days!
Mr. Sanders lived to be 106, even as I grew older every year I made it a point to shoot rabbits and take them to him for free. He died on the closing day of rabbit season his hunt was over.
Us kids would get together every Saturday and go rabbit hunting on Papa's place as everyone called him. We would designate who would be the rabbit dogs and who was shooters. Sometimes only getting couple rabbits sometimes a dozen or more. Then we would head back to the store by 4pm cause we new that's when Mr. Sanders would be there. Mr Sanders was a rabbit hunter but had got up in years close to 90 and couldn't get around to good but still loved rabbit meat. He would buy whatever rabbits we had shot sometimes he payed to much for what we had brought but he wanted to here the tale how each one was taken. Those were some
Good days! Very Good days!
Mr. Sanders lived to be 106, even as I grew older every year I made it a point to shoot rabbits and take them to him for free. He died on the closing day of rabbit season his hunt was over.