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The excitement built for weeks before rabbit huntin' season!
Not to partake of this annual Hoosier ritual was akin to treason!
For certain, on the first day of huntin' season, as a general rule,
Men called in sick to the boss and all the boys skipped school!

Our old hound, Spooks, sensed the excitement as well,
Eager to chase those wily varmints o'er fields and dell.
Thankfully, due to the rabbits' unusually prolific habits,
The old farmstead teemed with dozens and dozens of rabbits!

Too young to shoulder a gun, my job was to carry the sack,
Heavily laden with game upon my poor, achin' back!
Spooks brought the late Mister Rabbit and laid him at my feet.
I'd tell him, "Atta boy, Spooks!" and give him a doggie treat!

I reckon along about the age of twelve, my pleadin' with Pa was won.
At last I was allowed to hunt with the men and tote a gun!
The first time I fired the old twelve-gauge, it set me on my rear!
Old-timers laughed so hard, to their eyes it brought a tear!

I recall so many precious moments when a Hoosier lad,
Among them was doing "man" things with my dear old Dad.
Now in the autumn of my life, the gun leans against the wall.
I have no desire to harm God's creatures anymore at all!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)

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