| He's not big, but he's the one I felt comfortable shooting in terms of his position. Frankly, I was afraid if I didn't shoot soon, I wouldn't do it. I was shaking, but still managed a kill shot (with much urgent praying under my breath). I was excited and scared at the same time. I was mostly scared that I had wounded him, but not lethally, and that we wouldn't find him. Max was sure that it was a kill shot, but against my husband's instruction (we practiced shooting the rifle a few times beforehand and I was supposed to stay looking up), I pretty much collapsed after shooting into a ball of nerves, not watching to see where I shot, just looking up a bit after the shot to see that I had hit him because of the jump he made. He lay down for a while after that in the field and then decided to go die in the woods. Upon finding his body, I cried, not because I regretted shooting him, but for two reasons... 1) it was sad because he was beautiful and I had killed him and 2) because I was so thankful to God that I had actually successfully hunted big game, an experience I wasn't sure I would ever have with my husband, but about which my husband (and I, eventually) was very hopeful, and also thankful for the meat - we love venison. We had his tenderloins and back strap steaks and they were very tender and tasty. About 3/4 of the meat was given to a family who helped us butcher him in our kitchen and really appreciates the meat as well. We have a whole elk in the freezer already from Max's October hunting trip in Colroado. Thank you God for the meat and for the experience with my husband! |
No comments:
Post a Comment