It's Happening: Suiting Up and Pursuing the Hunt - Reprise
By Julie Perine on November 19, 2018 from It’s Happening
I mean, I knew people had once depended upon shooting wild animals for food. I took history class. I watched “Daniel Boone” on TV. And I remember Fred Flintstone eating those brontosaurus ribs. There had to be some hunting behind the scenes.
It wasn’t until I married into the Perine family that I saw someone suit up to actually pursue this outdoor activity. My husband Jeff, his brother Bob and some of their colorful friends made a holiday of hunting season. Preparing for Christmas didn’t light a candle to this effort.
It was, I believe, our second year of married life when I remember Jeff setting his alarm for about 4:30 a.m. so that he could slip into his brave and fearless hunter mode by the time his buddy Dick picked him up at 5. For easy access, his attire was all in a neat little pile. I guess when he jumped into Dick’s van, he already smelled like urine. But the odor wasn’t the buck lure which he had purchased. I guess our cat didn’t like the interruption of our regular routine, and released her displeasure upon Jeff’s clothes.
Another time, after one of the guys relieved himself into an empty water bottle, another picked it up and took a swig – mistaking it for water, of course. The stories are endless, as are the parade of deer which have graced our driveway for years and years. Pictures have been taken. Deer have been dressed and butchered and most of that meat has been given away. Oh, there’s been the occasional deer steak and mess of deer jerky. But like the hunting, I leave the consumption of those goodies up to the guys.
When my boys Jeffrey and Jake came along, they followed suit. At a young age, they became protégés of their dad and big game hunt mentor, John Paul Miller (son of Dick).
It’s tradition.
And really, that’s what I appreciate about all of this. Yes, my house is disheveled. And when they all get home tomorrow, it will be even more so. I doubt I sleep through their getting ready in the morning. But that’s OK. I like to give them some kisses for luck and make sure they have plenty of blaze orange and hot chocolate.
The way I see it, the real harvest of “hunting week” isn’t how many deer my guys get. We’re not pioneers. We have grocery stores. The real value of all of this is the bonding that takes place between Jeff, his boys and their buddies. And they will have a long line of stories – about tracking deer, sleeping in tree stands and bad aim. Hopefully, the tales won’t involve urine.