No Hunting For This Girl

I have loved animals since as early in my existence that I can remember. When I was a kid I always had cat and dog books, I had a backpack that was shaped as a tiger, I loved the animals I had, and basically everything to do with them. When I was in second or third grade I did a report on becoming a veterinarian. We made a poster board and presented it to the class.       

 I used to be able to kill like flies and moths, and even at one point decided I was going to be a hunter. I got my hunting license and everything and was all official. I went a few times with my dad but we never even saw anything. I was at that age that it was super cool to get a deer so you could impress all the boys, and show off. It must have been about middle school or freshmen year. Anyway, I was okay with the fact of killing a deer, I mean I have been around it many times when my dad got them and I watched and helped clean it out. As I got older, I started to less like the fact of killing an animal. At first I told my dad that I only wanted to shoot a buck, not a doe because she might have babies somewhere. Also being very impatient didn’t help, I absolutely HATED just sitting in the woods for hours, and the worst part was that you had to be quiet. Slowly my hunting career came to an end.

I even had my own gun, a 243 rifle that was black and had a silver scope. I think I stopped because it was more or less boring to me, and as I grew older, the thought of killing an innocent animal was not so appealing. I am fine with other people doing it, I just don’t think I want to. I would feel too guilty, so don’t expect me to be murdering anything anytime soon.

            The idea of hitting an animal on the road makes me want to cry. Every time I see a poor little baby, I feel so sad. I have said multiple times that if I ever hit a cat, I would never drive again. I’m not sure if that is true, but I would at least cry for probably a few days. The other day I even picked a moth up by its wing and put it outside, it’s getting bad. I must hang around my aunt too much. She won’t let us throw out gum out the window because she doesn’t want a bird to think its food and choke. I love my aunt.