Mule Deer;
Belated Happy Thanksgiving wishes to you and Eileen John and thanks for the interesting reading your query and subsequent thread has been providing.
My late father farmed for a living, but was a hunter to the core of his being.
As I'm the youngest sibling, my family like to tell me of when I was maybe 3 or 4 and would become quite unmanageable when Dad would leave for his annual moose hunting trip and not take me along.
For me, the same as many here, I'm convinced it's deeply interwoven into my DNA.
Then too John, when I was a kid of maybe 5 or 6, I'd draw pictures of guys on horses hunting deer and moose in the mountains. The kicker is of course that as a Saskatchewan boy I'd never seen a mountain outside of a picture book or TV - but it pulled at me even then.
So then when my good wife and I drifted west into the BC interior, bought a small acreage and picked up a couple riding horses which I subsequently learned to hunt with - well one of the two anyway John - my family thought it was interesting that I'd finally arrived at the place I'd dreamed of and drawn so many years previously.
While I'm finding that I hunt with less "intensity" now than I did in my 20's and 30's, the call of the mountain behind the house still pulls me up there each September.
Those who know me best say they assume I'll continue that annual pilgrimage until prevented by health or death and I'd have to agree with them on that assessment.
Thanks again John and all the best to you and Eileen as we now run up into the Christmas season.
Dwayne
