A Strange Christmas Story

let me say right off that the subject of this story might not sound like it is coming from an animal lover, but this is the way it was in our house when i was growing up, so no flack please about hunting. this memory just popped up in my head a few minutes ago and i thought it was worth sharing.

here is the story.

when i was growing up i really idolized my dad and since he worked such long hours i never got a chance to spend any time with him except when he went hunting. i don't remember when he started taking me with him, but i know i was really young, maybe 7 or 8. i think i was around 10 when this particular event took place.
it was christmas day and we lived pretty much in the country, altho now it's just a st.louis suburb. we had an over-abundance of beagles, but for some reason he decided not to take them that day. my mom didn't like him taking them anyway, because invariably one or more didn't come back and then it was a big search to bring them home. anyway, we had a really big snowfall christmas eve so that when we woke up there was about 8" on the ground and more coming down. dad wanted to get a couple of rabbits for dinner so we set off down the road to the lowland by the river. i had to walk about ten steps behind him (the rule when hunting) so i would step in his steps just to slog thru the snow. we reached the big field next to the river where the johnson grass was tall but weighted down by snow and it was rough going thru the field. i knew that i had to keep very quiet and the snow was falling in huge flakes. the orangey yellow grass dotted the fields and it was a truly beautiful sight. after walking for several minutes thru the field, dad stopped. when he stopped so did i, from habit, and i expected to see him raise his gun. instead he turned his head to me and winked and put his finger to his lips. i couldn't imagine what he was doing. he crouched down and suddenly reached out in front of him very quickly. i still couldn't see a thing. he stood up then and turned to face me and in his hand he held a rabbit by the ears which he placed in my hands. i cradled it in my arms and looked up at him with such astonishment. there was my dad, a man who could catch a rabbit with his bare hand. the awe i felt for him increased ten-fold that day. i don't recall if we even exchanged words except that then he said, "i think we've done enough hunting for today, let's go home". we walked thru the field, back the way we'd come and when we reached the road i was starting to get a feeling of "what now". being the good dad he was, he quietly suggested that we should let the rabbit go back home so i turned and set him down on the snow and after a couple of seconds he took off.

my dad hunted many times after that, but never again down in that field. i really miss him.