Grandpa the hunter

My Dad is a hunter. If it moves, swims, flies, runs, or is otherwise considered a food source then there is a good chance he’s spent time chasing it. He has hunted bears in Canada. He has hunted deer, antelope, and warthogs in Texas. He’s been to Africa SIX different times.

He is a conservationist. He cares for the land. He plants seeds and checks the water sources. He cares for the animals. He won’t shoot a deer until the season is almost over because, really what fun is that? If he finds a hurt animal, he rescues it. He never shoots a female, ever. He spends time catching fish, just to throw them back.

It’s what he does. It’s who he is. I’m okay if Simon takes an interest in hunting. I’m even okay with teaching kids gun safety. (Although I am no Republican!)

The Hunters Where did he go?

 Dad and blue wildebeast
I’m even okay with decorating with dead animals. If you don’t believe me, check out my house.

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