I got a 12 gauge Mossberg 500 shotgun. I also threw in a camo tee and some "outdoor" pants. So I could be fully outfitted for our upcoming Pheasant hunting adventure. And when I got home last night I tried my entire hunting outfit on out of excitement. And my husband was so proud he took a picture.
And I think I look like a real huntress. Except for the fact that you cannot see in this picture that I would never shoot a deer. Or a pig or a cow. Or put a worm on a hook. Or clean a pheasant even. Heck, I still gag when I cut up chicken breasts from a store bought styrofome package.
Philosophically speaking, my husband firmly believes we should only hunt animals that will starve or get hit by cars unless we help with the population control. In addition, he thinks we should not hunt things we will not eat. And logically I can agree he's right. But that does not convince me to want to partake for the same reasons. Because admittedly, I believe I should hunt all rodents that simply bother me, like rats, geese, raccoons, skunks and possums.
I think he is a little scared I will get arrested for a felony for shooting "willy nilly" at pesky varmints in our yard. Or in our house. Because yesterday when we found a beetle on the wall I asked him for the 12 gauge. He smiled at me in a scared way. A very scared way.
And I must admit I have a some desire to be very Hillbilly about the whole thing.
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