Support the Timberjay by making a donation.
Last year, after my divorce, I became a single mother of two young children. I am working a part-time job but the budget can get tight. A friend asked me if I was going to deer hunt. He knew the …
This item is available in full to subscribers.
To continue reading, you will need to either log in to your subscriber account, or purchase a new subscription.
If you are a current print subscriber, you can set up a free website account and connect your subscription to it by clicking here.
If you are a digital subscriber with an active, online-only subscription then you already have an account here. Just reset your password if you've not yet logged in to your account on this new site.
Otherwise, click here to view your options for subscribing.
Please log in to continue |
Last year, after my divorce, I became a single mother of two young children. I am working a part-time job but the budget can get tight. A friend asked me if I was going to deer hunt. He knew the sight of blood makes me queasy so I promptly said NO! Killing something furry and cute was highly unappealing.
After some careful consideration, I realized hunting would be a good way to ensure my kids and I had food for winter. A hunting license would cost me about the same as ten pounds of hamburger from the grocery store.
Right then I decided to become a hunter. I took the online hunting safety course, got my hunting license, spent time at the range and was ready to try hunting.
When rifle season opened, I was ready. I found the perfect spot in the woods and waited and waited...and waited. I saw lots of birds and was visited by an adorable pine marten. Several days later I was lucky enough to see a buck. He had three points on his one remaining antler. I didn’t take the shot because, prior to hunting, I resolved to only shoot if I knew it would be a good shot. I couldn’t bear the idea of an animal in pain. Finally, two days before rifle season ended, I saw him. The buck I had patiently waited for. He was a three-pointer. As I waited for him to line up for a good shot, I remembered the best hunting advice I’d received. “Don’t think about it as killing a furry animal, think of it as food for your kids.” I took aim and pulled the trigger. One bullet through the heart. I was thankful he died quickly and didn’t suffer.
Some of the venison got turned into Polish sausages. Which we all enjoyed greatly.
This year, I got my seven-point buck on opening morning. This deer didn’t suffer either. Again, it was just one bullet through the heart.
When my four-year old heard I got this deer, he jumped up and down yelling, “Polish!”
I discussed with my children that yes, it is sad the buck had to die, but it had to if we want to eat during the winter. Both of my children look forward to the day when they will be able to hunt. To help feed our family.
Kate Perkins lives in Ely.