There once was a man who had a passion for hunting. This passion brought him all over the country seeing many new places and meeting many great people. This man has always had a great appreciation for being able to live his dream. The animals who gave their lives in order for this man to find success was always respected. The great meals they provided are too numerous to mention. Their all natural no preservative bodies provided good nourishment. They were blessed to have never had to see the inside of a cage, pen or stall. They never had to be crammed into a trailer to be brought to auction. They never had to wait in line and witness at a slaughterhouse others before they hit the ground for the last time. Photos and even some that made it on the wall gave them eternal life. The memories of each hunt are all burned in this Hunter’s brain. Each one has a unique story and all attributed experience’s that can’t be found in books.
Feelings this man experienced could be described like this: The feeling of confidence and being prepared after the countless hours of practice with different tools of his trade. The ability to walk amidst the creatures he hunted to learn how they live, where, what they eat and where they slept. At times, only their unmade beds could be seen as they may have gotten up in a hurry. He also had to learn to talk the talk in order to be accepted in their home. To be a fly on the wall as they pass by unknowing of his presence. At times he acted as a mother calling for her babies. Other times he was an older male fighting to defend his territory willing to give up his life to be able to keep his genetics carrying on through his offspring. Even on occasion, he was as vulnerable as a fawn crying for its mother with hopes she would come running to him to show him the way. Other times he pretended he was a rutting buck making scrapes under over hanging branches with hopes that the doe of his dreams would come by and give him a sign. As he did catch up to her eventually, he towered over her sometimes intimidating her. Maybe she never stood for a male before. At first, she ran from him not really understanding why he was being so annoying. He was so strong, his bodies transformation not even he could fully understand. He fought other males for the chance to be with the doe that wasn’t sure she even wanted him. He usually called the shots but new his place behind this doe of his dreams. She would let him know when she was ready, until then he would follow her every step. Then one day a light went off in her head and she stood for him because she too had her own reasons that are innate for she wanted to be a mother and pass on her survival instincts to her babies.
This hunter saw the ways of this life he wanted to be a part of. He was a student well before he was an experienced hunter. He made mistakes but never got discouraged. He learned from his mistakes and vowed not to make the same mistakes again so he got better with each season.
He became aware over time that his measure of success was not the number of bodies he laid down but with the experiences, the people and the places he had gone as well as the great meals the harvested animals provided. Sometimes he wondered why he was setting his clock at 04:30 am which nothing else would warrant. He is a self-starter. Leaving a warm bed with a warm body behind as he ventured out into the cold on even single degree mornings. His endurance would be tested yet again but he always reminded himself that he was there because he wanted to be. Not like the animals he hunted, they had no choice, this was their life, their world. That’s why they have survival in mind with each step they take. As if each step could be their last. Knowing this the hunter owed it to the animals he hunted to be as proficient as he could be. To be patient for just the right time to release his arrow or squeeze his trigger as to make a quick humane shot.
After making the best humane shot he could his second hunt often began. The tracking of a mortality wounded animal. Again being prepared along with experience will tell him whether to press on or back off, both are imperative for the hunt to be a success. Even if all else fails he will search in places he would go if he were the hunted. He must put many aspects of the hunt in his mind, keep playing it over and over in his head until it gets burned into his mind. Even if not successful the first day the hunter may display determination and go out the next day as to make every effort not to waste the animal. It’s that night of laying in bed playing it over and over that the hunter gets up yet again at first light maybe with hunting friends this time to totally wreck his savored “Hot Spot” by traipsing all over it with as many bodies as possible to recover that sacred animal no matter what the size or how big the rack! Every animal is a trophy! A life.
Even in his moment of triumph, he feels several emotions, some sad, some rejoiceful, some thanking God, for no creature falls without him knowing! He reminds himself about not wanting to leave his other half in that warm bed at 04:30 as he smiles thinking, “this is why I do it”! Success might simply be an animal sighting, the passing on one, a hawk landing in the same tree, a chickadee landing on him, a squirrel or porcupine climbing up the nearest tree to get a closer look that makes the hunt a special one. Yes, at times this hunter was renewed with the reward of a successful hunt. He cared for the animals he harvested to ready them for the table. He had to prepare them for transport. He might have to sacrifice his own body to a degree in order to get the animal out safely. Then break it down to put it into the freezer for future meals. He took pride in the food he ate that was fresh as well as having no preservatives.
He did not worry about justifying his actions which are pure and innate to others who disapprove. For this activity is not for the weak, the squirmiest, the person needing instant gratification. He respected choices as long as his choice was also respected.
Life for this Hunter was good. Living his dream!
I know him very well.
Your brother Hunter,
Michael DiPietro
Northeast Woodsman Outdoors & Kennel 
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