This is your father. I am writing you this letter because as you know, I am not good at communicating with you in person, as I get intensely angry every time you make direct eye contact with me. I read the brochure you gave me about the “cruelty of hunting” and am writing you in order to clear up some misconceptions you have about my hobby.
Yes, I hunt deer. And duck. And boar. And I fish. And occasionally I shoot cows, but bear in mind that I only shoot cows if there is a deer behind the cow and I have to take down the cow in order to get the deer. This is part of the philosophy that was given to me by my father. He would take me out into the woods and tell me the following words “Son, the only thing that separates us from the animals is our belief in the holy father God, and since these animals are godless, we can destroy their lives in the most brutal ways imaginable. Thessalonians 4:15.” He would then leave me alone with a clearing and enter the woods alone, carrying only a buck-knife and his uncanny ability to make noises exactly like a female deer in heat.
Do I believe exactly what my father believed? Of course not. I know the score when I grip my rifle with both hands, point it at the animal, and fire. The beast takes it in the side, and then looks at me with a look of…respect. We are equals, until he dies because I shot him from fifty to a hundred yards away. Then I tear his body apart, keeping only the parts I’m going to eat, and I leave the rest of him in a pile behind the cabin. A big bloody pile of mutual respect. For the life of me, I cannot understand how you cannot see these things the same way I see them.
Boy, I didn’t want to bring this up but…is this about the time that I shot you accidentally? While I accept the blame for this, I told you a million times to always wear orange every time you walk in front of my gun. I tend to simply shoot at anything that moves if I can get away with it, after which I yell “YEE HAW” and jump up and down in the air, all of which you experienced after you were shot. I have apologized repeatedly for this, just as I have apologized for hanging you upside down and trying to skin you. All I can say is that once I shoot an animal, pure instinct kicks in. It’s just good that you were able to remember the words “Git R’ Dun!” They brought me back.
I hope you realize that animals would kill you if they had the chance. And the ability. You’re lucky I kill deer, because they could easily slip into your bedroom in the dead of night and kick you with their powerful hind legs over and over again. It is not difficult to break into your house, just as I have demonstrated when I broke in last night and placed this very note under your pillow. Keep that in mind when you try to sleep your liberal, bleeding heart, animal loving sleep. Mom is doing well.
See you at Thanksgiving,