Shooting Some Skeet(ers)

I have never been (and never will be) a hunter. The thought of shooting a live animal is just something that doesn't appeal to me.

I take it back to two instances in my life. When I was 13 or 14, my dad took me out pheasant hunting. He would never admit it, but I think he wanted to use me as the dog...flushing out the birds. He shot a bird...down came the bird...and we went in to claim our prize. The problem? The bird wasn't dead, so Dad beat it over the head with the butt of his rifle. It still wouldn't die. He finally had to pick it up, and twist its neck.

Now...jump ahead 2 years. I'm 15 or 16. I'm in a friends back yard, and we are taking turns shooting at backyard birds. I didn't want to look like a wuss...so I took my turn. Trouble was...I was too good of a shot. I shoot, and a robin falls to her death.

I felt awful. What a senseless act. A beautiful bird dies...so I can prove I'm a good shot in front of my buddies. The act made me feel so guilty that I never wanted to hunt again...and I haven't.

Now...jump ahead 44 years. The church guys are shooting some skeet...shooting some clay pigeons...doing some trap shooting.

Since the "birds" aren't alive...I decided to try it. I only shot 3 times...hitting my first target. Beginners luck they called it. I shot what real hunters call a "kiddie" gun...a 20 gauge. I didn't want to shoot the 12 gauge...for fear of hurting my shoulder.

The company was good...and the beef stew and the biscuits were delicious. Four things did go wrong. 1. The rain kept starting and stopping. 2. Everybody's shoes got loaded with mud. 3. The hot chocolate was cold. 4. Doug (in the blue) flung a clay almost backwards, and hit his father-in-law in the wrist. (He claimed it was an accident.)

I think I'll stick with shooting from my camera, and not a shotgun.

That's me in the lower left...waiting intently for the clay to fly.

"PULL!" "BANG...BANG...BANG!!!" (3 shooters.)