I have a household, whose characteristic feature is that it is always thrown from the extreme to the extreme, for example: I could not tolerate physical education all my life, but suddenly started to go to the crawl, there, contrary to all common sense, pulled tremendous weights for himself, in the end - injured his back, or even in school painting just hated, and then started to write even quite decent landscapes. You understood...

Somewhere two years ago, he was seriously engaged in a stand shooting (on flying plates), well, he decided to go further, namely, hunt, I would be on the table to extract, or in the shops, conservances, well. He did everything as appropriate: with a license, a ticket and other conditions, he called me to his first hunt. In my barefoot childhood my grandfather in a voluntary order regularly took me with him to the forest to hunt, I hunt myself, gently speaking, I do not like it very much, but understand me correctly: to beat a beast for food, like in a deaf taiga, questions almost do not cause, and sports hunting I do not understand "from the word at all", so I initially refused, however, the idea of spending a couple of days outdoors in the company of a good friend did its job.

In fact: the duck went to shoot, the bird he shot, but not the salmon (as in the spring is believed), but the duck. We found her — trembling, I say, "Well, the newly-cooked braconier, complete the beast," and he is looking at her, his lips tremble, all shakes, even the rifle erupted. I repeat, “Get it! In short, he could not, they picked it up, took it to the veterinarian, on the way he looked at the morning, whispered his nose and wondered how it was possible to kill a living creature. I said to him, let him rejoice that his mind has not yet reached the rabbit, for the wounded rabbit cries exhaustedly like a baby, and from the whisper of the moustache on the skin, and from such his "coming of love to all living things" would be much brighter. At the veterinarian, the duck was robbed, but we had to lie there that we had found the mushrooms and the bird.

After all the procedures, a friend took the duck home, said until he recovered, let me live (he has his own house). And when she suddenly dropped the egg, so he there in general with tears in the eyes almost broke the gun, all shouted, "Well, I would once again, and for this hunt!" the weapon sold, the duck returned to the natural habitat, and himself now even meat does not eat, in general as always in his repertoire: from extreme to extreme.