Rememberment, Chapter XXIX: The Hunt

I was more than used to seeing dead animals.

All my brothers were hunters, and whenever they brought home some prey, I wanted to see how they were skinned and gutted before Mom made something delicious out of them. And while my brothers wouldn't let me mess with the birds and the rabbits, I knew very well how to gut a fish by myself. I could name most of their innards as well.

Matti's dad was also an experienced hunter and trapper, and often when I visited their house I was greeted by some skinned muskrats that were hanging from the top beam of their yard swing (which I don't think was ever used for its original purpose). And of course, Matti and I both kept collecting butterflies and beetles, which also had to be dealt with properly before they could be showcased: that is, putting them in a jar with some ethyl acetate in order to take their lives without damaging their delicate bodies.

Having fun with deceased critters didn't end there. I had seen a documentary about the Egyptian mummies, so when our cat brought me a dead mouse, I accepted her gift with some sincere gratitude. I took great care in crafting a sarcophagus out of an empty cardboard box, decorated it and dug up some clay to construct a little pyramid next to our potato field. It made for a worthy final resting place for the great Pharaoh Tutankhamouse.

I also had my "dinosaur phase" (doesn't every kid?) and seeing some real dinosaur skeletons was a big dream of mine. But when I asked my parents about visiting a museum for that, they only replied that we didn't have such museums in Finland, and we certainly didn't have the money to go see them in some other country either. That dream would have to be fulfilled at a much, much later date.

Was I somehow more fascinated by death than was strictly necessary? Maybe not. Besides, Dad had always taught me that while one shouldn't cause unnecessary pain to animals, their lives were always of much lesser value than ours. People were created in God's image, and upon people He bestowed power over all other living things.

I sometimes watched Tapio as he shot crows near our house. He had made an impressive looking model of an eagle-owl, and hung it high in a tree. Then he took his small-caliber rifle and started shooting the agitated crows down like it was the easiest thing in the world. He had always been an expert hunter and was clearly enjoying this thing he was so good at, so I wanted to try it too. Who knows, maybe I too had what it takes to be a great hunter? I was already quite confident in my ability to shoot, so that would hardly be an issue.

I knew I could have just asked my brother if I too could try shooting at crows with his rifle, but that didn't seem like the real deal. Besides, I knew hunting was about more than just one's accuracy with a gun; it was also about knowing where to go and how to move quietly, and about patience. I felt I had to try it on my own. 

So one day I took my BB gun and ventured into the woods. I knew my gun wasn't supposed to be used for hunting, but I also knew my weapon and how powerful it really was. Instead of the normal blunt pellets, I brought with me some pointed ones which I thought should be more effective.

I walked around, listening to the sounds of nature, until I found my prey. Right in front of me, high on a tree branch, there was a squirrel. That should do it, I thought; people used to hunt squirrels all the time. Very quietly and carefully I repositioned myself for a good angle, lifted my gun, and took my aim through the scope. And then I fired. The squirrel fell down on the ground, right next to the tree. Ha! I did it!

I hurried forward, knowing I'd need to find my prey quickly in case it was still alive and perhaps trying to escape. But it wasn't hard to find - it was right there at the bottom of the tree, just sitting on its back. It was still alive but made no effort to flee, so I crouched down right in front of it to have a real close look. Its chest was moving in the rhythm of its quick but shallow breathing. There was blood coming out of its chest and mouth.

I remained there for a while, just looking at it. My excitement and pride were suddenly gone. I had an unpleasant feeling in my stomach. 

I realized that I had just hurt an innocent living being, not for food or any other reasonable purpose, but only to find out what it would be like. And I didn't like it.

Nevertheless, I also knew that I had to put the squirrel out of its misery. I reloaded my gun and fired another shot, this time right into its skull. Its body started to shudder for a few seconds as if hit by a jolt of electricity, and then it stopped moving. The feeling in my stomach spread into my legs as well.

I took a tree branch and carried my victim away with it, burying its body in a shallow grave under some soft dirt and moss. I was utterly disgusted and ashamed of what I had done. After hiding my crime I walked back home, swearing that I would never again aim a weapon at a living being. 

So I learned that hunting wasn't for me, and to this day, I haven't had to reconsider my position on this matter.