Went out hunting this afternoon here in NW Missouri. Our regular Firearm Deer Season is currently open, and I elected to take my Pedersoli Frontier Rifle in .54. Hunting a remote piece of public ground where only muzzleloaders are allowed. Walked way back in the woods and found a spot that looked promising, and sat on a handy fallen log that was up against a tree. Beautiful day, and as far as I could tell, I was the only hunter around. Half an hour after sitting, two does came ambling by, and I watched them wander off after several minutes. An hour later as I was looking off down the holler, I saw a large, majestic 10 point buck headed my way. I first saw him about 130 yards out, and my heart started pounding as he came ever closer. I watched him for several minutes, and he eventually came within 20 yards. He was a large mature buck, with a wide spread and high antlers, a rarity on public land. As I watched him and positioned myself for the can't miss shot, something strange happened. I have been a lifelong hunter, taking many deer over the decades, but today was different. As I watched him eat acorns, totally unaware of my presence, I was overcome by a desire to not kill him. I went out today with every intention of killing a nice buck if the opportunity came. However, as I sat there watching him, I was actually saddened by the thought of him being dead, especially as he was just enjoying the day eating his lunch. I lowered the hammer on my rifle, and just watched him for several more minutes, until he finally meandered out of sight.
Don't know what happened, but I do know I have killed my last animal. Not turning woke or going vegan, nor am I being critical of those who do hunt, but all my desire to ever shoot another critter died today. I shot my rifle into a stump and cleaned it this evening. I will be out in the woods again tomorrow, rifle in hand, but it will not be loaded. Hopefully I will see my new "friend" again. Getting old does weird things to a fella.
