Being a child was simple. The only real fears you faced were the make-believe monsters under your bed. You didn’t have to worry about going broke because you didn’t have to make any money. Life’s essentials were given to you by your parents.
Now that I have children of my own I do fret about being broke, along with other disheartening issues that face our future generations. Life isn’t always fair; in fact, life is full of inevitable problems that call for hard work and determination. There isn’t any substitute for good ol’ fashion hard work in order to be successful; a valuable lesson my nine-year old son experienced personally this past week.
Hunter was sitting in between Jared Zeirenberg and me in my black pickup. We were all very content to be where we where and doing what we were doing…hunting. I was on my pronghorn hunt near Fontenelle, Wyoming. Jared was there because he seldom passes up the chance to hunt as well as to help me find a nice buck antelope. Hunter was just along for the ride. “Cottontail!” Jared shouted, pointing out my side window towards a small eroded bank. Hunter jumped from his seat spotting the hidden bunny without any delay.
“Dad, can I shoot it?” He pleaded. I was antelope hunting, not bunny hunting. Besides, if he shot the .22 it would startle any pronghorn in the valley. Plus the fact that we’d have to field-dress the rabbit which is all taking time away from my antelope hunt. I looked at Jared, confident he would support me on my mean decision to continue on the antelope hunt; however, his long face and puppy dog eyes confirmed the contrary. Hunter and Jared quickly pulled the .22 rifle from the case and got into position.
The cottontail sensed danger but dared not move. I could see the end of the rifle barrel swaying like a willow in a high wind, as Hunter tried his darndest to hold the oversized rifle to his shoulder. The first shot was close. The bunny lowered his ears exposing a small .22 diameter hole in the clay bank right in between his ears. The second shot was perfect. The bunny flipped on its back and quickly disappeared. Now I even forgot we were antelope hunting for this was Hunter’s first rabbit! Hunter approached where the rabbit was hidden to find a small tuft of hair and a little blood, as well as a miniature fault-line several inches wide that the cottontail had rolled into. Some deep exhales from Hunter expressed the emotional roller-coaster he was riding. He peeked down the deep crack and was certain his rabbit was gone…for good.
I knew what we should do, but my antelope hunt, remember? We are trying to get into good antelope country before the warming temperatures muddle the air with heat waves, which makes spotting antelope very difficult. “Mike, do you have a shovel?” Jared asked. Before I could answer, Hunter interrupted, “Yah, Jared, we brought one” while running to the pickup with a newfound hope.
We all lost track of time until an oil worker slowly pulled up breaking our train of thought. “What in the world are you guys digging?” he asked with lots of variation in his tone. “Our antelope we wounded crawled down this hole” Jared replied quickly. The worker’s eyebrows scrunched up “Rea-lly?” he questioned. We laughed and told him the story. He nodded his head with a smile, perhaps reminiscing on his first rabbit or maybe even his son’s first rabbit. Time passed and the temperature warmed up. We dug and dug and dug. Jared and I would climb head first into the hole, hoping to catch a little fur in the beam of our flashlight. It turned into a major excavation job when finally Jared pulled the lifeless furball from the hole. Hunter held that rabbit like a mother holding her first newborn baby that is until the fleas from the rabbit began dispersing onto his arms and neck.
That night we had the best cottontails I had ever eaten. Yes, I said cottontails. Throughout the day Jared apparently forgot we were antelope hunting and helped Hunter look for roadside rabbits. Thanks Jared for reminding me to slow down a little and enjoy the little things in life. As for Hunter, he learned how hard work and determination can sometimes lead to great success.
“I know the price of success: dedication, hard work, and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen” Frank Lloyd Wright.
Now that I have children of my own I do fret about being broke, along with other disheartening issues that face our future generations. Life isn’t always fair; in fact, life is full of inevitable problems that call for hard work and determination. There isn’t any substitute for good ol’ fashion hard work in order to be successful; a valuable lesson my nine-year old son experienced personally this past week.
Hunter was sitting in between Jared Zeirenberg and me in my black pickup. We were all very content to be where we where and doing what we were doing…hunting. I was on my pronghorn hunt near Fontenelle, Wyoming. Jared was there because he seldom passes up the chance to hunt as well as to help me find a nice buck antelope. Hunter was just along for the ride. “Cottontail!” Jared shouted, pointing out my side window towards a small eroded bank. Hunter jumped from his seat spotting the hidden bunny without any delay.
“Dad, can I shoot it?” He pleaded. I was antelope hunting, not bunny hunting. Besides, if he shot the .22 it would startle any pronghorn in the valley. Plus the fact that we’d have to field-dress the rabbit which is all taking time away from my antelope hunt. I looked at Jared, confident he would support me on my mean decision to continue on the antelope hunt; however, his long face and puppy dog eyes confirmed the contrary. Hunter and Jared quickly pulled the .22 rifle from the case and got into position.
The cottontail sensed danger but dared not move. I could see the end of the rifle barrel swaying like a willow in a high wind, as Hunter tried his darndest to hold the oversized rifle to his shoulder. The first shot was close. The bunny lowered his ears exposing a small .22 diameter hole in the clay bank right in between his ears. The second shot was perfect. The bunny flipped on its back and quickly disappeared. Now I even forgot we were antelope hunting for this was Hunter’s first rabbit! Hunter approached where the rabbit was hidden to find a small tuft of hair and a little blood, as well as a miniature fault-line several inches wide that the cottontail had rolled into. Some deep exhales from Hunter expressed the emotional roller-coaster he was riding. He peeked down the deep crack and was certain his rabbit was gone…for good.
I knew what we should do, but my antelope hunt, remember? We are trying to get into good antelope country before the warming temperatures muddle the air with heat waves, which makes spotting antelope very difficult. “Mike, do you have a shovel?” Jared asked. Before I could answer, Hunter interrupted, “Yah, Jared, we brought one” while running to the pickup with a newfound hope.
We all lost track of time until an oil worker slowly pulled up breaking our train of thought. “What in the world are you guys digging?” he asked with lots of variation in his tone. “Our antelope we wounded crawled down this hole” Jared replied quickly. The worker’s eyebrows scrunched up “Rea-lly?” he questioned. We laughed and told him the story. He nodded his head with a smile, perhaps reminiscing on his first rabbit or maybe even his son’s first rabbit. Time passed and the temperature warmed up. We dug and dug and dug. Jared and I would climb head first into the hole, hoping to catch a little fur in the beam of our flashlight. It turned into a major excavation job when finally Jared pulled the lifeless furball from the hole. Hunter held that rabbit like a mother holding her first newborn baby that is until the fleas from the rabbit began dispersing onto his arms and neck.
That night we had the best cottontails I had ever eaten. Yes, I said cottontails. Throughout the day Jared apparently forgot we were antelope hunting and helped Hunter look for roadside rabbits. Thanks Jared for reminding me to slow down a little and enjoy the little things in life. As for Hunter, he learned how hard work and determination can sometimes lead to great success.
“I know the price of success: dedication, hard work, and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen” Frank Lloyd Wright.
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