your first kill: how difficult was it for you?

I started hunting doves when I was a boy. The hard thing to get used to was not the shooting part, it was what to do when you've only wounded the animal. It actually took several years before I could wring a dove's neck without flinching. As gruesome as that sounds, it's easier on the bird than letting it flop around until it dies.

Here are my 3 pointers, for whatever they're worth:
1) Try for the clean kill, even though you won't always get it.
2) If the kill isn't clean, try not to let the animal suffer any longer than necessary.
3) Eat what you kill.

Hunting and being an animal/nature lover are not mutually exclusive. Just go to a Ducks Unlimited event. The biggest part of their membership is probably duck hunters. They love their wetlands, and they love their dogs. One of the things that I've often said about dove hunting is that, as much as I enjoy the hunt (& the dinner later), even if I don't fire a shot, it's a good chance to get out and watch the sun rise.
 
Whack em and Stack em. Never had a problem and never will. I've never seen any other predator crying over it's supper or sport why should I? Because we've evolved? Bull pucky. Man is a predator and we need to eat. I'm not feeling bad about it.

LK
 
I was a town kid with farming relatives so I saw life and death frequently IE: calf born, Pig killed and roasted. I shot my first game animal at 12 years old a nice fat gray squirrel. No remorse excited to put meat on the table. 1st deer at 13 no remorse. As others have stated I have no problem harvesting game whether it fish,fowl or game. If it bothers you don't hunt. I do not think less of a person if hunting is not for them as long as they respect my right to hunt. I have friends at trap league that love the shooting sports but have never hunted. Perhaps you would enjoying shooting sports and leave the killing up to a butcher. Nothing wrong with it.

MWal
 
In my opinion the way you will feel about it will come down to your intentions.

The first animal I remember killing was a baby squirrel. It had fallen out of a tree and I believe our cat had "played" with it for a little while. It was trying to run but its entire rear half did not seem to work at all. I felt pity, and relieved its pain with a shovel. That is right, first kill was not even with a gun :D. I felt sad the animal had fallen and injured itself, not that I had killed it.

The second was a snake with a bb gun. Was a moderate size corn snake, it lunged at my sister. I was going to leave it alone but after that there was really only 1 thing to do. No bad feelings
 
We grew up poor, the first one was a thrill as I had finally got a pheasant we would all eat for dinner. Meant no bread and gravy for supper. We ate that a lot at times of no meat.

I fully enjoy any wild game I shoot, it brings back memories and tastes great.

Used to make a meal out of ground deer meat cooked up with beans and other veggies all in one skillet. I still cook this, my kids call it cowboy stew.
 
My first kill wasn't difficult at all. The difficulty started when I shot a squirrel with a .22 and paralyzed it from the waist down. Took me 15 minutes to catch up to him so that I could put him (and myself) outta his misery. I still go hunting but don't get after it like I used to. My focus is now reloading and target shooting.
 
I learned to kill at an early age, working on a large hog operation in southern Iowa for my grandfather every summer. My great uncle and my grandpappy would cull runts and one time I asked them why were they killing all the little pigs. Well after they told me, they decided I was old enough to start killing also. From there I hunted squirrels, fished the little ponds, shot coyotes and such pretty soon it's just like Scorch describes, it's pretty much second nature.;) I shootem, cleanem, and I grillem!!;)
 
Probably the first thing I killed was a dove out of a tree with an "heirloom" L.C. Smith double. The load sort of crippled it and another guy popped its head off to stop its flopping and brought it over to me, telling me I had shot its head off.

Then I went to Argentina and killed thousands of doves, and that never happened once. Hmmmmmm.

That being said, I annihilate squirrels in my back yard every chance I get because they annoy me.
 
Don't know . . .

. . . about my first kill; but my last one (2 years ago) bothers me.

Shot a 2 year old doe with my SKS.

Hit her once.

Rifle JAMMED!

. . . took about 3 minutes as I watched, helplessly as she gave up the ghost.

Bothersome difficulty.

I guarantee that doe was more serene with her death than I was.

Rmocarsky
 
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I just grew up with it. My first official "job" was as chicken-catcher. I'd catch, my grandfather would cut the head off with an axe, and my grandmother would take over to turn the chicken into good-eats. Scald, de-feather, gut and butcher--and, finally, cook.

Ya wanna eat meat? You or somebody has to do the scut work. Doesn't matter if it's cow or deer. Sorry, but squeamish just doesn't cut it.

No big deal. It's just what they call "reality", is all. Just part of growing up.
 
First year I went out in deer season my dad and I bagged an 8-point basket rack buck. Shot his legs out and he still kept trying to run! Made it about 3/4 mile, ended up knocking out one of his antlers, so he was really a 4 pointer :mad: and he wasn't dead when we came up on him. Helped my dad bleed him, field dress him, drag him home and hang him, skin and butcher. Not squeamish at all. As was said, if it bothers you don't do it.
 
I guess I'm just a mean old fart. I killed birds when I was a little tyke with my Daisy BB gun. Both, my younger brother and I had BB guns and were expert Starling killers. Dad said they ate too much grain and needed to be thinned, so we were constantly at war with them all during my childhood. When I was 10, I remember shooting a Magpie in the head with that Daisy BB lever gun at about 35 yards and killed it dead instantly. I was jacked and so were my friends.

I went on my first deer hunt at 12 and was the only hunter in my party (of 8 men) to get a deer. I shot that little buck at about 60 yards, right through the neck, with my Winchester model 94, 30-30. My dad and I and some of the other men were sitting on a big rock cliff and that deer just walked out of the trees below us. I was the only one to shoot, because I was quicker than them and a dead on shot. I'd been practicing for years with that BB gun.

So, Dad and I walked down into the trees to gut that critter. He started to get pale and a little weak in the knees, so I asked him what to do. He instructed me while he leaned against a tree and puked. Both my arms were bloody up to my shoulders and I was pulling out guts and blood. But, I field dressed that deer and later my Uncle showed me how to skin it. I was in seventh heaven.

From that day till he passed away, my Dad never had to field dress an animal. I took care of it all for him. Eventually, I was hunting and trapping for money (furs) and running hounds for bear and cougars. It was a grand life. And, I never once said thanks to the animal (I'm not a native); but, I do give thanks to God for providing the meat and furs for me and my family and for all his other blessings.

Killing is an important part of life and we almost all do it either first hand or vicariously through slaughterhouses. When I sit down on Sunday with my family to eat a roast beef dinner, I don’t thank the animal. Instead, I thank God for his bounty. Because, I believe it was him that provided that food for my family.
 
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I believe I was 14 when I shot my first deer. It wasn't the first animal I had killed, but it was was the first large animal. I remember being very excited and proud. My father and our hunting buddies showered the appropriate praises upon me and I felt as if I had passed a milestone of some sort and become "one of the guys" in some way. I killed several more, until I was 18, then was out of hunting for about 18 years.

I got back into deer hunting two years ago, and went one whole season without killing a deer. I find that my definition of a successful hunt has changed, I no longer need to kill anything to consider it a success. Being out in the woods, away from work and people, having time to think and enjoy the creatures great and small is enough.

Last year, I killed a nice 8 point on public land, and once again was proud and happy, but it's not the reason I hunt. I find in my old age of 36:p that I let more walk and don't take marginal shots that I might have in the past.

Incidentally, my father took me deer hunting in my younger days even though it really wasn't his thing. He never fired a shot, and I'm fairly sure that he never even loaded his rifle. I didn't make the connection until much later, but a year in Vietnam made killing something that he just didn't enjoy. He endured much ribbing from the guys in the clubs, but he still took me. Sometimes killing something isn't the most important thing.

My advice would be to go hunting, enjoy it, and make the decision to shoot when you are ready. A successful hunt doesn't always mean killing something.
 
First one for me was a cottontail and I felt horrible for days. 2nd was a pheasant and I felt horrible for days. I didn't kill anything else for almost a year when I got my first deer and I, yep you guessed it, felt horrible for days. I got to the point where I was going to have to get over the terrible feeling of killing something or quit hunting altogether and I decided to give it one more try and ended up being fine with taking another life, as long as it wasn't wasted.

Fast forward 20 or so years and I'm considering quitting hunting. I love to shoot and I punch paper at least twice a week. I love reloading. I love the outdoors with close friends and family.

The problem is, and I've heard people make this joke but, it's literally getting to the point of ruining a good hunt by killing something. I don't enjoy the work that follows a kill. I prefer beef over wild meat. My wife doesn't eat meat and I can't eat all the meat I kill in a year by myself, even if I wanted to. The last few years I've gotten all my meat jerked and give about half away. My friends love the jerky, but is it really fair for me to take a life 'just because' and then worry about where I can find a home for the meat? I don't think it is.

I'll continue to shoot and reload and spend time with my family, just not hunting probably. I think my father is starting to feel his age and would be fine just target shooting together anyway. My brother on the other hand, may be a little upset but such is life.
 
My advice would be to go hunting, enjoy it, and make the decision to shoot when you are ready. A successful hunt doesn't always mean killing something.
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good point. I think someone else mentioned that maybe I should stick to trap or skeet shooting. this may very well happen but I want to experience true hunting before I make that decision. if it turns out I am squeamish about killing and/or blood and guts then maybe sport shooting might be best.

The problem is, and I've heard people make this joke but, it's literally getting to the point of ruining a good hunt by killing something. I don't enjoy the work that follows a kill. I prefer beef over wild meat. My wife doesn't eat meat and I can't eat all the meat I kill in a year by myself, even if I wanted to. The last few years I've gotten all my meat jerked and give about half away. My friends love the jerky, but is it really fair for me to take a life 'just because' and then worry about where I can find a home for the meat? I don't think it is.
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my father in-law often has a lot of deer meat leftover from his hunt. he's always giving me deer sausage or specially made 'beef sticks'. of course, I love the stuff but I can only eat so much of it. my wife won't touch it which means our freezer eventually gets packed full of unused meat. this is an interesting point though. I think this is part of the reason why I want to start hunting water fowl first, because then I know it wouldn't go to waste
 
my first animal kill, i was 8. my father and i came across a groundhog when out on a 3-wheeler ride. he told me it was a pest, and we should kill it since we had the chance. i smashed his head in with a rock. yeah, it felt a little gruesome at the time, but i don't see any problem with getting rid of varmints. after that, whenever i took an animal for food, i never questioned whether it was right or wrong.

have you tasted venison??:D
 
my first kill was a fox that kept getting in to the chickens. Bing about 9 years old then I did not know the proper weapon to use so I got my fathers 20 ga. I got the fox but I got 2 chickens with it.

The only time I ever remember feeling bad was I once shot a rabbit with a bow when I was out practicing for deer season. The rabbit was not killed but was pinned to the ground. IT started making that crying sounds and I all most cried my self... my dad made me finish it off.

The Blood never bothered me but the crying did. but that was many years ago and it no longer happens.
 
Bein' a born florida boy, I been killin' intentionally since I was able to crawl up on a palmetto bug and smash him with my hands.

Stompin' snakes as well... First "mammals" I remember killin' was field rodents in the orange groves "behind the trailer park". I wasn't 3 I don't think but may have been, we used rocks, oranges and sticks to hunt them.

First kills with guns (air or powder) or bows were really late in me discovering my predator side.

Brent
 
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