A local television station aired a story the other night about a Wisconsin high school biology teacher and avid hunter, who after three years of tracking one elusive deer with a lot of antlers ("16 points" I think I heard), finally bagged it with his bow and arrow.
In the hunting-for-sport world, I guess that's a pretty big thing he did. I got the impression from the story that this hunter scored big in the eyes of his hunting peers.
In our state, those peers number a half million (a half million!), according to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.
Obviously, I'm not a hunter. So no, I haven't experienced what many hunters describe as the thrill, the challenge, the coming-of-agery and the camaraderie of the hunt." (A thoughtful piece about all that was "Deer stand meditations," Nov. 5.) And no. I've never felt the elation that follows a "successful harvest." I've been told to try it, and then I might understand. "But until you do…."
In the past I couldn't and wouldn't understand what makes hunters tick — no way, no how. The bottom line for me was that an animal was killed for the heck of it. Period.
But my thoughts are, let's say, evolving. Who would have thought?
Here's why: In the past I invariably went looking for an argument with a hunter. I exposed my bias from the get-go by starting with loaded questions and declarations like: "How come you kill innocent animals?" or "I don't see how you can like killing an animal" or "I'm guessing you don't hunt for food?" or "So you think killing an animal is fun. Right?"
Those conversations died a faster death than one beginning with, "How could you possibly vote for…."