DR TCB, my dad hunted and he passed that along to my siblings (he was actually step-dad to my 3 older brothers and my sister).
My dad took my little brother and I on many early morning hunting trips during our frequent weekends of camping up at Diamond Lake and/or Howard Prairie from the time I was about 5.
Frankly, at the time, I had no interest in getting up when it was still dark out, bundling up and hopping into the chilly 1969 Ford pickup. The only good thing was the hot chocolate and donuts that mom brought along.
I can recall many a time when a skinned deer would be hanging at our camp.
The first time I witnessed my dad shoot a deer and then gut it...well, that was the end of it for me (I was not more the 6 years old). The next time dad took me out hunting I made so much noice (jumping off of downed trees, talking loudly, throwing rocks) that I was never made to go hunting with him again.
I had no interest in killing things nor seeing them get killed. My brothers, however, all took to hunting like a flea takes to a dog. They all still hunt to this day and, for the most part, have handed the blood sport down to their kids. All of my family and all of our family friends from southern Oregon are hunters.
Hunting seemed quite natural at the time since I grew up with it. It wasn't until I was an adult that I really gave much thought to how I felt morally about it. And the subject is never debated at family gatherings due to my nearly being lynched several Christmases ago! LOL!
