Making the connection

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I can't get these thoughts outta my head until I put 'em down so feel free to skip this one.

I sat there in recliner, book in hand and large glass of ice next to the chair. On one wall, middlin' 8 point looks across the room. Middlin' to you. To me, it's the best trophy I will ever have, better even than the world records whitetail. The story behind that I have told and will tell again, but not today.
 
Directly in front of me a buffalo skull hangs. Above it a black fox squirrel, chest with red patches, perches on a fence post. Another wall holds a fox. The old catfish I caught in college, it's not hanging up but it needs to. In the hall, a blonde, black and red fox squirrel hide hangs from a wall. Out in the barn hang a variety of skulls and in the deep freezer are hides of various kinds.


As noted previously, Grandpa hunted deer for years and never killed one. Dad had one 8 point, about the size of mine, on the wall. I have 2 and could have a third, but I let him walk. Other smaller and fewer point bucks are around in various places.

First kill. A hunter is born.

Susan has a coon in her room. Her first kill. I have Jesse's first kill, a wild hog skull, that needs a bit more work before it becomes a wall hanger.

A picture of my great grandfather and his wife, likely the only one ever made of him, has the two of them sitting. He's holding the skull of a buck, I forget how many points.

I understand why he did that. I feel his pride across the years, the decades and the generations. I am equally proud to continue the tradition.

I am a hunter. I kill animals. The vast majority of hunted animals, my family eats or we share with people not in my immediate family, especially those in need of food.

Can you?

I hang various parts of the animals to show my prowess as a hunter, to show my ability as a provider. I did this. I, by my hand, went and brought home food for my family. I proved I can survive.

I hang them to remind me of the hunt. I hang them to brag to other hunters "Look what I did!" I am not above a little ego stroking.

I hang them because there is a connection between them and I which goes beyond the sustenance they provide to my flesh. I have a physical reminder when I see trophies hanging on the wall. My ancestors, and yours, would give thanks before the hunt, during the hunt and after the hunt for the animals that died. I do this.

Can you say the say for yourself.

Hank Jr's refrain "a country boy can survive" is not just an anthem. It is a way of life.

It is who I am. It is what I do. It defines me in ways I cannot explain. It completes me in ways I do not understand, but I accept.

If you too are a hunter, you understand. If you are not a hunter, then you cannot understand.

If you do not know and want to know, come with me and hunt.

Feel the connection and learn what it means to live in my world.