garote | (Reply)

From:

Yeah, we used to pitch cans for each other against that steep hill of blackberry bushes that I once fell and rolled down, shirtless, ugggggh! I still remember how much more painful a million little thorns were than getting punched straight in the face, as had also happened. Anyway after getting decent at the cans the next logical step was to practice on Stellar jays going from one redwood tree to the next. Their flight path is pretty straight and predictable but fast, as I recall, so you had to fire way out in front of it to even have a chance. The only kill I feel ashamed of was one squirrel that somehow grabbed onto a branch on its way down, after I shot it, and died there still hanging on, so that it just dangled there above Steve's deck until it finally rotted enough to fall into the underbrush, a grisly picture. That finally made me realize the immorality of hunting for pure sport (as opposed to at least eating it or at least making use of it somehow) and I never did it again, my whole life.