When I was 5 or 6 years old I was riding with my Grandad in his scout. I was sitting in the back. He stopped and asked me " Podna, You ever had a hawk's foot." I said no. He reached into the glove box and pulled out a 22 pistol. He leaned out the window and aimed at a hawk circling above the tree tops. He shot and the hawk dropped stone dead in the back of the scout right at my feet. He holstered the pistol, stuck it back in the glove box and drove off like it was no big deal.
