Red, yellow, and brown leaves surrounded the western hunting grounds of Gunnison National Forest. The sun is just rising on a frosty early October morning. A middle age man and a young boy both crawled out of their sleeping bags and put on their bright orange hats and vests. The young boy very nervous and anxious is not ready to go hunting for his first time. He prepares himself by following his dad’s strict instructions on how to load his gun, stay low, and scout around for fresh deer tracks.
Looking down the barrel of the little Ruger American, little Timmy is afraid to pull the trigger. His dad had been dreaming of the day Timmy’s mother would allow him to take his son hunting. On the other hand Timmy and his mom had dreaded it because, ever since Timmy was very young boy he had an unconditional compassion for animals.
He recalls many of his childhood memories and experiences. He would find small birds or squirrels that had been injured, and nurture them so they were healthy enough to live on their own. He would bring them into his house in a little shoe box, after carefully moving their damaged bodies. Afterwards he would get them food and water when the animal had felt comfortable enough to try and eat . In the little box, he would place leaves and other things he found outside in the box, in order to try to make the animal feel more at home.  He never wanted to hurt any animal no matter how big or small it was. When he grows up he wants to be a veterinarian.
His mother was the same way, when Timmy’s father was at work she would volunteer at the local Humane Society. She would encourage Timmy to care for every animal and treat them with care. When Timmy was very young she would help him catch and care for the injured animals. With step by step procedures she helped create an passion for animals that would carry out through Timmy’s older years.
On the other hand Timmy’s father was almost the exact opposite of his mother, always wanting to go out and mess with animals whether it be burning ants with magnifying glasses to using his beebee guns to shoot birds off their perches on the fences. Timmy did not think less of his dad because of his past history with animals but it strengthened the relationship between him and his mother. Timmy believed his father was like this as a result of his grandparents old lifestyle. His father lived in the northern countryside of New York. Timmy’s father and grandfather would hunt for food themselves instead of going to grocery stores to buy food. His father believed that it was a great way to save money, and a very great bonding activity for fathers and sons.
In Timmy’s left ear he could hear his dad whisper, “Steady...steady.” At the other end of the sight is a large buck with long antlers and a broad face. It stood there grazing with two other deer both smaller with antlers just starting to bud out of his head. Timmy could not tell if the one with no antlers was a male or female. Focusing back on the big buck, Timmy started to shake. He did not want to take the shot. He was shaking so much, he could barely see the object he was aiming at before. His father could sense this, but pushed him to take the shot. Timmy did not want to disappoint his father. A shot echoed through the forest.