Rita Zorn: No more hunting for us
One of the things that attracted me to Larry was that he was not a hunter. We never talked about hunting while dating. It was not something I embraced, and I assumed Larry did not either.
Except for a sick raccoon walking in circles and putting a mouse out of his misery. The last time I killed anything, Larry was with me. We were shooting at carp with a 22 pistol shortly before we were married. I hit one between the eyes. I know what some of you may be wondering. What is it about hitting things between the eyes, Rita? That is an excellent question. I have no answer.
When I saw the carp floating lifeless, I didn't like the way it made me feel. I vowed then to not bring harm to anything that has never tried to harm me. If I could help it.After a co-worker introduced Larry to deer hunting, he changed. Larry found joy and excitement in something I could not relate to. We were 7 years into our marriage and Larry had shown no interest in hunting up till then. I was more than disappointed. I felt duped.
I didn’t want to be selfish, but I felt Larry, and I spent too much time apart as it was. Hunting just compounded that. Despite my feelings, I did my best to support his newfound love. Even camping with Larry so he could enjoy the very thing, I would never understand.
Two large deer mounts adorn our living room wall. A caribou hide draped across my hope chest for decades until it was shedding so badly, I stuffed it in a closet. I could never see past the majestic animal the hide represented.
I readily admit to screaming, “Run, run, for your lives” every opening day of gun season. All summer I watched a large buck saunter next to a female and two young ones. I will be holding my breath and rooting for them on opening day.
One year on opening day, Larry had no one to go hunting with. I volunteered to go despite not wanting to. I ended up being his good luck charm. Larry dropped a buck and a doe at first light. Larry was elated. I stood over the animals and cried watching the life drain from their eyes. Then I sucked it up and helped Larry drag both bodies to the truck through a stubbled cornfield. We were home by 9 a.m. from a hunt just a little over an hour away. Larry, and I will always remember that day for completely different reasons.
On a caribou trip one fall, Larry and 3 other guys were taking turns driving in treacherous conditions. Larry, the safest of the drivers according to the other men, was at the wheel when the trailer he was pulling swung out and jackknifed. They ended up in a ditch. Upside down. The truck was totaled. Thankfully, no one was hurt badly.
When I learned of the extent of the accident, Larry reassured me that he was okay, and he would call again in two days. Larry did not call two days later, and he does not remember telling me he would. I was out of touch with him for days.
I cannot imagine the emotional roller coasters our military families experience while loved ones serve our country. God bless them for the sacrifices they make for the freedoms we too often take for granted.
After seeing for myself in the flesh that Larry was okay, I covered him with kisses. Then the mama bear in me growled, I would never be put in that position again. Wise papa bear hasn't put up much opposition. Towanda mama bear!
— Rita Wyatt Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifetime Monroe County resident. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Rita Zorn: No more hunting for us
