A huntin' I will go...

I wasn't going to post this, but last week was Jason's birthday and I gave him what was probably the best present of all time. I mean besides the chocolate covered cinnamon bears. I guess the story starts at Christmas two years ago when I was desperate for a present for Jason, so I signed up for Hunter's Safety and gave him the receipt in a huge box. I really didn't intend on ever going through with the actual class, but he made sure I went and shot guns with a bunch of sweaty 12-year-olds in the basement of a Pleasant Grove city building and got my lovely little certificate in the mail a few weeks later. I still did not plan to ever actually go hunting. Little did I know, he was busy putting me in for every hunt he could think of. I haven't drawn out for anything too crazy yet, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time (not that I will go if I do - yeah, right). This year I just got a general deer tag and there was some pretty significant bribery in getting me to go at all. The stakes were that if I shot a deer I can get laser eye surgery. So, two weeks ago, the kids stayed at my in-laws' overnight and we headed out to West Canyon at about 4:30 am. It's all a blur now, but there was a long 4-wheeler ride, an even longer hike, and I found myself on top of a mountain before the sun came up. I got a few good pictures of the sunrise, but then the camera batteries went dead and we had to take the rest of the day's pictures on camera phones (sorry, Jason!). It was actually pretty fun being out in the wild and feeling adventurous, especially because I was sure we wouldn't even see any deer. We hiked around for a while, and then at about 9:00 it happened. Jason spotted a bunch of deer. There was a chase, some more hiking, and eventually I had a gun in my hand and he was trying to help me aim it, yelling in a desperate whisper, "Shoot! Shoot!" So I did what I had to do to make my husband love me more than I ever thought possible. I shot a huge deer. It's funny because we really didn't know how big it was until we found him. I figured it was pretty good, though, when Jason started giggling like a little girl and saying, "He's got cheaters! He's got cheaters!" over and over. Not that anyone knows or cares about the score of a deer, but it scored 172, had 5 points on each side, and eye guards. I wish I didn't know what those things meant, but I have been married to a hunter for long enough that I could probably write a book on scoring animals. Guys. Why does it always have to be a competition with them? Isn't killing something enough? I guess not. Anyway, I felt really bad for a while, and I talked it over with the deer and petted him on the head (with gloves on, of course) and I think he was glad to give his life so I can see. There really are a lot more deer out there, and his little deer friends didn't even act sad or anything. They just stood there and watched us, so I figure, the deer has lived his life, and now he will live on. On the wall of Jason's office.