Gone

The TV in my basement comes to mind.


And I once shot a yearling that I *thougjt* was a full grown doe coming past a clump of trees. Momma and fawn switched their order of march when they were out of sight.
 
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I've regretted taking shots on deer that I knew I shouldn't have or should have waited, but as far as "what was I thinking" shots, only one night's worth.

In my younger, wilder, stupider days, I borrowed my brother's car. I drove out of town and commenced to get drunk at da club. On the way back into town, the clutch burned up. The car wouldn't go forward anymore. I grabbed my pistol and started walking. I shot the first road sign I saw. As I dropped the pistol to my side, I squeezed the trigger enough to make it go bang again. Not wanting that to happen again, I stuck it in my belt.

I walked about a mile to a closed bar in the fork of the highway. I dropped 35 cents into the payphone and called my brother. He said he would be on the way in a few minutes. I hung up, took a long look at the plate that covered the coin box on the phone, pulled my pistol and Bam! Right in the keyhole. No coins fell out.

When we rode out the next day to get my brother's car, there was a dude working on that phone.

Other than that, nothing.
 
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While dove hunting, I flushed some perched dove and took a shot. Unfortunately, there was a Bluejay messing with them and he took the shot.
 
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I used to shoot up the house with a Sears air rifle when no one was home when I was about 10.

Trying to feel some regret.

Not feeling it.
 
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I've shot the glass globes off lightning rods with a BB gun in my youth. I still regret doing that.

105.JPG
 
Story number one...

I was 9 years old, in 4th grade, in Alabama... I had a crossman bb gun in the shape of an M16. One afternoon, I was laying in the yard, proned out, like my granddaddy taught me and I sighted in on a big beautiful woodpecker. Pew! Got him.

I ran over and meticulously inspected him. I remember how beautiful his feathers were.

The next day, in Alabama History class, I opened my text book and there was a picture of the Alabama State Bird.... It was the same bird I had killed the day before.

I asked my teacher what would happen if someone hurt a state bird. She told us that they are protected by federal LE officers and they would prosecute anyone who hurt one.

For the next month, I was afraid that the FBI was going to come knock on my door and arrest me!
 
Story number one...

I was 9 years old, in 4th grade, in Alabama... I had a crossman bb gun in the shape of an M16. One afternoon, I was laying in the yard, proned out, like my granddaddy taught me and I sighted in on a big beautiful woodpecker. Pew! Got him.

I ran over and meticulously inspected him. I remember how beautiful his feathers were.

The next day, in Alabama History class, I opened my text book and there was a picture of the Alabama State Bird.... It was the same bird I had killed the day before.

I asked my teacher what would happen if someone hurt a state bird. She told us that they are protected by federal LE officers and they would prosecute anyone who hurt one.

For the next month, I was afraid that the FBI was going to come knock on my door and arrest me!
Wish I had been with you. I would have put a feather in your lunch box everyday until you ended up in a straight jacket.
 
I shot a nest with a CO2 pellet rifle when I was a kid... daid baby birds fell to the ground.

I shot a mockingbird when I was dove hunting a few years later... was a mistake but I felt real bad about it 'cause of those daid baby birds earlier.
 
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I shot a nest with a CO2 pellet rifle when I was a kid... daid baby birds fell to the ground.

I shot a mockingbird when I was dove hunting a few years later... was a mistake but I felt real bad about it 'cause of those daid baby birds earlier.
I took a guy duck hunting on the Pamlico Sound. He shot and retrieved in the saw grass one hundred yards away. He shot and dropped again. We came together later he had a heron and a cormorant. Wanted to know what kind of ducks these were. I said “drop them in the grass and get in the boat. We are going to find a hunting book at the local store before tomorrow morning.”
 
No. But when I had the flying squirrels living in the cabin with me I did consider it. But I was too cowardly to fave my wife after putting 45 acp holes in the nice log cabin walls and ceiling.
 
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I had a wild un-domesticated cat that kept climbing on my car and leaving paw prints all over it. I went outside with a 22 rifle and shot at the ground to scare it away. That's when it went South. Bullet hit a large rock just below the dirt and ricocheted into the cat. needless to say the cat died and it made me sick to my stomach. .Other than squirrels and rabbits that I killed for food that cat was the only animal that I have shot. Since that day I use rocks to shoo strays away
 
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Lol some of these animal stories are just kind of odd. I've never felt bad about shooting non domestic animals at all. I could careless about some wild dog or cat. I was talking to my buddy and his wife the other night he owns a real life farm. His wife bought a donkey a while back and it apparently bit one of the calves on the back and it had to be put down. So he shot the donkey. Then in college on his goat farm there were wild dogs that would kill goats. He said the best/luckiest shot he ever made in his life was about 150 yards at a dog that had been killing goats. He shot it with a 12 gauge slug. Wasn't pretty is all he said. People that grow up on real farms are just different when it comes to those things.
 
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Story number two...

About 1995...

I was about 14. My older brother would have been 24.

He had a Ruger 6 shot revolver in .22, and my dad had a similar but much older one.

My brother had his revolver and I took my dad's revolver (without asking), and we walked about a mile from our house to shoot turtles and stumps in the creek down the road from our childhood home.

Along the way, we were talking about Tupac and rap music and gangsta rap, etc. We even joked about how "gang bangers" in the movies would hold their guns sideways when shooting.

After a couple of shots at the creek, my brother walked away to look for something else to shoot at.

I saw a steel street sign on a steel corrugated post. I said, "Jason, look at this! "

I held that revolver sideways like a gangster and shot that sign post from about 5 feet away. Even faster than i could react, I felt pain and looked down and saw that a piece of that bullet had ricocheted straight back and nicked my stomach about two inches below my belly button.

By the time we walked back home, the scratch had already stopped bleeding.

I put my dad's revolver back and I never shot a gun sideways again. I also never shot a sign again.

I still have a little scar...
 
In 1974, on the island of Vieques, Puerto Rico, I shot an emaciated cow with a white phosphorus round from s 3.5 rocket laucher. Made for quite a BBQ! They were wild, poorly fed, and had the run of the firing range.

Truth be told, I was shooting at an old Amtrak hulk about 400 meters when this old girl wandered out from behind the tractor hulk. I was not happy about it, but can't be blamed either.

GD it stunk!
 
I shot a nest with a CO2 pellet rifle when I was a kid... daid baby birds fell to the ground.

I shot a mockingbird when I was dove hunting a few years later... was a mistake but I felt real bad about it 'cause of those daid baby birds earlier.


It’s a sin to kill a mockingbird
 
Story number two...

About 1995...

I was about 14. My older brother would have been 24.

He had a Ruger 6 shot revolver in .22, and my dad had a similar but much older one.

My brother had his revolver and I took my dad's revolver (without asking), and we walked about a mile from our house to shoot turtles and stumps in the creek down the road from our childhood home.

Along the way, we were talking about Tupac and rap music and gangsta rap, etc. We even joked about how "gang bangers" in the movies would hold their guns sideways when shooting.

After a couple of shots at the creek, my brother walked away to look for something else to shoot at.

I saw a steel street sign on a steel corrugated post. I said, "Jason, look at this! "

I held that revolver sideways like a gangster and shot that sign post from about 5 feet away. Even faster than i could react, I felt pain and looked down and saw that a piece of that bullet had ricocheted straight back and nicked my stomach about two inches below my belly button.

By the time we walked back home, the scratch had already stopped bleeding.

I put my dad's revolver back and I never shot a gun sideways again. I also never shot a sign again.

I still have a little scar...
Let me get this right. You did a drive by shooting on a woodpecker, listen to Tupac rap, and have a whittle bitty nick scar from a ricochet. Man you got some damn straight up street cred now. Homey you are ready for Compton now.
 
Lol some of these animal stories are just kind of odd. I've never felt bad about shooting non domestic animals at all. I could careless about some wild dog or cat. I was talking to my buddy and his wife the other night he owns a real life farm. His wife bought a donkey a while back and it apparently bit one of the calves on the back and it had to be put down. So he shot the donkey. Then in college on his goat farm there were wild dogs that would kill goats. He said the best/luckiest shot he ever made in his life was about 150 yards at a dog that had been killing goats with a 12 gauge slug. Wasn't pretty is all he said. People that grow up on real farms are just different when it comes to those things.

While I'll agree, I didn't get that to be the point of the thread. I think in OP's analogy he is more like the wild dog, senselessly killing something just because he could. I've put down a few animals in my lifetime, and each time, I try to make it a respectful experience, and that will only make sense to those that have done so. I have killed animals out of anger, and while I don't particularly like the feelings it stirs up in me, I don't particularly regret it.

I've shot many a destructive cat around my house. I hate that I have to do it, but I'm not going to have my birdfeeders ransacked, porch furniture shredded, yard filled with catsh*t, and any of the other myriad of issues that are created by overpopulated animals. I once gutshot one with a 22 mag and it ran back to the neighbor's house, entrails spilling out the whole way, and she called animal control to remove it. I hate that I couldn't give the cat the death I wanted for it, but as I thought about it, I realized that cats are ruthless, vicious creatures that basically torture their quarry. But, at the end of the day, they are beasts and I am a man, and I should strive to be better for it. The truth of the matter is that the owner should take an ass whooping for letting their damn animal wonder free to destroy property and decimate wild bird populations.

Of course, you can contrast that with the fact that I pick up spiders and take them outside, or simply let them live undisturbed in their little corners of the shop and house.
 
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Let me get this right. You did a drive by shooting on a woodpecker, listen to Tupac rap, and have a whittle bitty nick scar from a ricochet. Man you got some damn straight up street cred now. Homey you are ready for Compton now.
Nah, I decided to go LEO instead. Haha
 
I shot a pig once. And the story is pretty horrible and it’s the most ashamed thing I ever did in my life. When I turned 16 I was the first in our little group of friends to get a drivers license so I was always driving us around everywhere. We had a friend who was the son of a doctor and was pretty wild. He was known around town for being a bad kid. Anyway our little crew was cruising around one Friday night driving the back roads in this little Podunk east Carolina County. And he kept telling me where to drive to and we ended up in front of this house. This was the most rundown, dirt farmer house I ever seen. But he told us this yarn that the man that lived in that house did something to his sister. So us being young and stupid boys were defending our friends sisters honor etc. etc. all four of us shot the big sow in the front yard with 22 rifles. And then we sped off. The sound of that pig squealing has haunted me. Anyway we found out two days later that what actually happened was the man that lived at that house caught the doctor son stealing something in a store in town, and told the store owner. The doctors kid got in a lot of trouble. He lied to us to stir us up and get us to help him and get revenge. That pig was a big part of how that man sustained his family. My other buddies and I felt so bad I mean we had never done anything like that in our lives, we were good kids. One of my buddies confided in a father at the church what we had done and through him and the farmers preacher we had a meeting, my buddies and I bought that man four new pigs. We begged the mans forgiveness which he gave freely and quickly.

I’ve killed many deer, pigs chickens rabbits even a couple cows in my lifetime. It’s what you do to eat , But this one pig because of the fear and the angst that it brought on that man and his family brought much shame and regret on me.
 
My grandfather has passed, so I’ll tell his story.

He was a farmer in IL and liked cardinals, the birds not the ball team. One day “his” cardinals were very upset about something up in the pine trees about 120’ from the house. To help calm his cardinals he took the 10 gauge out of the closet and fired a round up into the tree. He’d lived there his whole life and had never seen anything like the giant bird that fell dead from that tree, and so being a good farmer he nailed it to the side of the barn facing the road. He was pretty proud of it so had “mama” take a polaroid of him and it, he mailed that to us.

We got the picture, there he was holding his shotgun with a big grin standing next to a great horned owl that was 2’ tall and had a wingspan greater than 4’. Still have that polaroid around here somewhere. We called and explained what it was, he took it down and buried it. I think he regretted killing it.
 
I shot a bird or two in my day when I was young... then one day it hit me I was just killing. I stopped.

Not long after, I was playing golf and shanked a 7 iron into the creek.... I was a little mad walking to the cart and a little rabbit hopped out of the bushes in front of me about 30 feet away... I took the ball in my pocket and slung it at the rabbit.

Hit him right smack between the ears. He flops over. Man, I felt horrible... Ran over to him and picked him up.

He was punch drunk... just knocked silly. Dad said, "Son, either play with it, eat it or put it down" I got him on his feet at the 8th green and he hopped off in the bushes.

After that, I have watched every one of my shots.
 
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