I’ve been sifting through old hunting slides, admiring the fine marksmanship of my family. Hunting is for sport, for the thrill of the kill, and it’s justifiable when the end result is food on your table. In the mid-70s my father went on a wild boar hunt in the woods of Tennessee. He shot a grand-daddy of a hog, not knowing that younger pigs are tastier. If memory serves me correct, they never went back. Was the thrill gone? Was the trip not worth the expense? Or were they no longer welcome at the Parch Corn Creek Wilderness Lodge due to my Uncle Ivan accidentally shooting the hunting guide’s favorite dog? (Pictured from left to right: Lenny G, Uncle Ivan, Grandpa, & Dad.)
There’s more to say about hunters and that killer instinct in Sleet Magazine’s fall issue under the “Irregular” section (seems like a wonderful place for my writing). Also, be sure to checkout the 2-part interview with Erik Donald France.
Sleet Magazine
Interview (Part I) & (Part II)
7 comments:
Great narrative over the slides!
But I never shot no durn hound dog.
Oh, man. Not for the ladies, eh?
What I wanna know -- is that really a box of beer in the deer?
http://eriklerouge.blogspot.com/2010/09/james-r-tomlinson-interview-part-1.html
JR- I will cook and eat wild game, but I have no interest in the killing part. I do love to shoot skeet, tho!
LOve me some wild game. I'm enjoying your interview over at ERik's as well.
Which of the hanging critters was the dog?
Enjoyed the interview on Eric's blog. That time of season. Had plenty of venison in my time, can't say I had wild boar though. Enjoyed the read. MW
I once aske Charles Gramlich,
"You sometimes ride a Hog.
"But are you allowed to eat one?"
He said yeah, pretty well everything but the hooves. :)
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