Ethical Hunting

Defining a Hunt Season

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Although this is only my second-ever deer hunting season; this is the worst hunting season ever! I suppose, really, it depends on how one measures a hunting season. Being a newbie, I tend to rate it first by number of deer harvested, and since the current number as we soon begin the month of December is zero, it rates as a suck hunting season. Yes, I almost got a nice buck with my very first shot, one Friday evening back in October… but you know how the saying goes, “Almost only counts in horseshoes, grenades, and atomic bombs.” Of course there was “Threeper” the 3-point “buckling” who stepped within about 12 yards of me and waited for me to harvest him, but we know how that story goes and Threeper is alive today to tell the tale. And there were those two close encounters with bucks, as a direct result of not shooting the buckling, which then urged me to adventure further from my comfort zone in search of deer; but they basically fit in the “almost” category, which we’ve already determined might make a good story but doesn’t provide food for the incoming year.

In my efforts to harvest at least one deer, preferably three, I have logged in (I literally write down in a log book every time I hunt and the hours I hunted) about 100 hours. Perhaps this is more like a deer hunting season and last year’s harvest at only 40 hours of hunt time was a fluke… but it’s all I have to compare to. Every opportunity I have to go out is taken, to include showering in my office shower and heading out in my scent-free garments straight from work. I have hunted in the rain, a futile effort in my opinion, and deprived myself of sleep in order to maximize my time in the woods and blind on a five-day weekend. Today kind of “takes the cake” though in my self-imposed hunting insanity.

When I left this morning around 1000, it was barely drizzling and the forecast showed a reprieve from rain. My Hunting Predictor app (for my smart phone) indicated it was a fairly good day for deer, so off I went. I dressed extra warm today as we’ve been having below-freezing temperatures and icy roads. I wore five shirts, the outer being my BDU blouse, and a coat, two pair of leggings under my slacks, two pair of socks – with a Hot Hands in between the socks to keep my feet warm, my full face mask, and my winter gloves – also stuffed with Hot Hands. If you can imagine a camouflaged Oompa Loompa than you’ll have an idea of what I looked like. I dutifully let my truck warm up, scraped the ice from the windows and gingerly drove down the road, headed to the Fort Riley woods beside my regular hunting area on my friend’s property. About 500 yards from my apartment, while endeavoring to slow to a stop at the intersection, my “Danger Ranger” began to slide… across the lane and toward the guard rail.

Have you ever noticed that no matter how commandingly or loudly you state, “No! No! NO!” you can’t control a vehicle in an ice slide?! Sure enough, my truck hit the guard rail and then bounced off, and as I didn’t break the rail and go plummeting down the embankment I figured I’d continue toward my hunting destination. I concluded the time to have made a change in plans was before I pulled my truck out of the parking space, and since I hadn’t made that choice, and the truck was still operational, I might as well continue with my hunt – hopefully making it all worthwhile.

Hoping to have better luck on the Fort Riley side of the woods, I parked on the side of the road and hiked in. It took me over 30 minutes to get to where I decided to stop; not because I went that far, but because I walked that slowly and purposefully, trying not to sound like an approaching army of one on the ice and frozen tall grass. I stayed in that spot, a small clearing in the woods, for over an hour waiting for deer to decide it was an excellent time to come out for a nosh. As the rain increased in intensity I decided maybe I should go deeper in the woods where the deer might be hiding. I walked through a thicket of tall grass and bush branches (there were no leaves) which reminded me of a booby trap to ward off invaders. There was nowhere that didn’t create noise, or try to trip me. Finally I reached a cluster of evergreen trees that looked like they might lead further into the woods. I had to duck to walk under the branches of the evergreens, although there was a clearing of a couple of feet. The ground was covered in ice, and as I walked through the passageway I was reminded of crossing a magical threshold into a new world (maybe of faeries and wisps). On the wooded side I saw rich colors of autumn leaves on the forest floor, red berries growing on green bushes, and twisted tree trunks. There were deer tracks in the ice so I knew that this route was a pathway from the deep woods to the clearing. I sat on my stool beside a tree and listened. That’s when the rain became even heavier and colder. After about 30 minutes I realized I would perish before I saw a deer; as my gloves were soaked, my coat and face mask were soaked, my glasses foggy and stained with water droplets trying to become ice, and my crossbow was drenched in water and covered with forming ice. Reluctantly, I went home.

Despite yet one more failed attempt to harvest a deer, I appreciated the beauty surrounding me. Forcing my phone camera to operate while wet and cold I took photos of the area. You could say I was bound and determined to shoot something, even if just photos! One of the hardest things for me to curtail when I hunt is my photographic world-view. Having been a photographer in the Army, and throughout my adult life since, I see life as a photograph, and every hunt presents many missed photo opportunities; as snapping away with my camera would surely keep the deer at bay. Not that they’ve been very forthcoming anyway.

Now home, dry, warm, and comfortable, I have my soaking wet hunting clothes washed and in the dryer to be scent-free and ready for next weekend. Next weekend is rifle season though, and I had a very poor rifle season last year, so am cautiously optimistic. It would be fabulous if this rifle season was opposite last year’s and I finally score a deer. If not, it will be just one more reason to remember this as the suckiest hunting season ever; but one in which I’ve had more fun and more adventure than my first.

Stay tuned….

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Hunting: I Can Truly Be Me Until Monday

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Headed out to the Cabelas in Kansas City this morning, the country station I’d tuned into played the Steve Azar song, I Don’t Have To Be Me (‘Til Monday). As I sang along it occurred to me the lyrics are all wrong from my perspective; I can totally be me until Monday.

The “me” I’m referring to is the outdoor loving, hunting & fishing, camo and flannel wearing (not at the same time) me. When I’m out in the blind, or in the woods, as well as beside a lake, I am my true self. Granted, the tools of being a psychotherapist are also deeply ingrained in my persona at this point, so even on a hunt I am self-assessing.

Take for instance my hunt yesterday morning. Sitting in my blind by the pond, I had looked down for a moment (okay I’ll admit it; there was nothing happening so I checked my Instagram account – @gal_huntermidlife). When I looked back up, a young buck had walked into the clearing and was standing 10 yards in front of me, with his side showing, as if to say, “Shoot me already!”. At first I thought it was a doe and I turned on my Midland video camera, attached to my crossbow, and aimed. I needed only take the safety off and squeeze the trigger. But then I saw his rack…. I suppose at one time he was a four-point buck, but his left antler was broken leaving him only three points total. He was otherwise healthy looking, and would have still had fairly tender meat. But because I’d taken my head out of the game for long enough to check Instagram and see photos other hunters had posted of their full-racked bucks, I returned to the present moment with my head in the wrong game; instead of being focused on the fact I hunt for food, I was focused on the trophy atop his head. I told myself to let him pass, because he was young and needed time to grow. When no other deer manifested, I started to berate myself and assess my real motives.

That’s when I realized I had let the buck pass mainly because of my big ego and his little rack, not because I am really all that compassionate about the “buckling,” as a friend of mine called him. Last year I was that compassionate. This year I have a goal to harvest three deer so I can successfully switch to a Paleo lifestyle. Harvesting him would have placed me 1/3 of the way closer to my goal.

I’ve come to learn, however, that part of my process with hunting is getting to better understand myself. I’ve spent all my time hunting this year, through yesterday morning, in my blind; sitting like a princess waiting for deer to come at my beck and call. Yet I’ve wanted to learn to hunt like the folks in the magazines I read; stalking the deer through forests and mountains, rather than sitting politely by and waiting for them to arrive. So yesterday afternoon I headed into the woods, just below the natural berm on my friend’s property.

I spent 30 minutes trying to decide where to take cover; at first trying to sit comfortably on my camo tree stand seat, until I finally realized I would have to just kneel in the tall grass behind a berry bush. I had a view of several paths the deer take, and low and behold 30 minutes before sundown I heard feet walking along the berm. I positioned myself and saw an 8-10 point buck heading toward my location! He got within 10-15 yards of me, but got spooked when I used my deer call. I was given hope though, that all was not lost after my epic fail in the morning with the 3-pointer.

Once back from Cabelas this afternoon I showered and changed, and headed right back out into the woods. At almost the same time as yesterday afternoon, I heard a buck snort. I got poised and ready… but he never left the other side of the berm, where there is a clearing the deer call home. I waited until it was almost the end of the hunt time and got up to collect one of the key-wicks I’d doused in doe estrus and hung in a tree. I heard movement in the tall grass on the hill leading up to the other side of the berm. I inched myself up beside the evergreen with my crossbow at the ready. I followed the footfall of the deer with my crossbow until a beautiful buck head rose over the berm. I froze, with his head sighted in my scope. He stomped the ground with a hoof. He snorted at me, but I remained as still as I could. Content I was not a threat, he began his ascent up the hill and along the top of the berm. As I was trying to get a fix on his side he heard me move and ran off! I waited, in case he came back up, but he took a different path to my side of the berm, bleating his warning as he ran into the woods.

It was the most exciting moment in hunting I’ve ever had! Our faces were five yards or less apart before he began to walk away. And though I was unable to take a shot, I experienced a true thrill with the hunt. It made me think of a combat exercise, albeit one in which I am the enemy. I crouched in waiting, tracking his movement and preparing for the chance to strike. My heart was pounding in my chest and I had to purposefully steady my breathing. And I realized… this type of hunting is far more fun than sitting in a blind like a camouflaged princess!

Although it truly would have been nice to have already harvested one deer, my lesson in not taking the 3-pointer was worth it. Because I did not harvest the “buckling” I stepped outside of my comfort zone and went into the woods to hunt. And I had a close encounter both afternoons with a gorgeous buck. I also experienced hunting as something exciting and genuinely more skillful than waiting for a deer to present before my blind; although I had many misses last year, so I know that shooting with a crossbow still takes skill.

Tomorrow morning I will return to the woods to actively hunt, using my camouflage and hiding technique to work on my stealth skills, all the while embracing who I really am.

Hunting in the woods....

Hunting in the woods….

Finally, My First Turkey….

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This season in Kansas is a particularly exciting time for hunting. This part of autumn is archery season for deer, turkey season, assorted water fowl season, and this weekend is pre-rut antlerless rifle season for deer. I have not yet ventured forth with duck hunting and the like; however have been hitting the blind every chance I get for deer, and have been endeavoring to fill my autumn turkey tag as well.

What this means to an avid, obsessed newbie hunter such as myself is that I carry multiple hunting accoutrements into the blind with me. For deer and turkey I have been lugging my Parker Challenger crossbow and my Mossberg shotgun with me each and every time I go out. And as luck would have it (Murphy’s Law – luck is either bad or none) I have seen neither deer nor turkeys each time I’m in the blind with my crossbow and shotgun.

With this weekend being pre-rut rifle for antlerless only; I swapped my shotgun for my Browning 270 bolt action rifle and lugged it with my crossbow into the blind. I was not about to be sitting at the ready with only my rifle when a buck walked across my path; so I’ve been prepared with a weapon for either sex; crossbow for buck, rifle for doe.

As clear as the name Murphy is Irish, I was in the blind first thing this morning when a flock of turkey hens approached. Upon hearing the crackling of the woodland floor initially, I anticipated seeing a deer. Much to my surprise it was the turkey girls stepping out for their morning stroll. My mind immediately raced as I looked about the blind for my crossbow, believing a 270 round would be a bit much for a turkey. But by the time I managed to make coherent thoughts, pick up my crossbow, and set it on my bipod, the hens moseyed off.

I was left feeling quite frustrated as they had not shown up when I had my shotgun, and I was ill-prepared in my mind to switch gears from deer to turkey. But when I went back into the blind this afternoon, I had more of an action plan thought up and my crossbow placed strategically where it was easily accessible (although my plan was to reach it for a buck). Sure enough; barely 10 minutes in the blind and the hens came back – headed home to roost I guess. The flock had about 10 hens, and as they milled around scratching for food I lifted up my crossbow, placed in on my bipod to steady my aim, and set my sights on a hen facing me. I took a breath and slowly squeezed the trigger, reveling in the “thwack” the string made as it was released. I was so intent on bagging a turkey that I didn’t even remember to turn on either of the Midland video cameras I’d set up for hunting; one attached to the bow, and one beside me on a tripod. My aim was true and the arrow flew directly into the hen’s breast.

The rest of the flock fled as my turkey stumbled a few feet and then surrendered her last breath. I practically leapt out of the blind with excitement! This is my third turkey season, but the first time I’ve bagged a turkey. Last autumn I gave a half-arsed attempt to hunt, but having never studied it, had no clue what I was doing and therefore saw no turkeys. In spring this year, I successfully called in Jakes and hens during my unarmed dress rehearsal but then never had another opportunity to bag a turkey once armed, as spring in Kansas is bearded-bird only and no Jakes or Toms presented again. This autumn season I had my one tag (either sex) but wanted to get a turkey so much I could feel my desire in my bones. Four turkey tags later, I finally bagged my first turkey.

I’ve heard of hunters getting “buck fever,” and freezing when a deer presented itself. This was quite the opposite. It was almost blood lust. After two prior seasons with no turkey, and after about 30 hours of hunting so far this autumn, with no deer sightings or turkey opportunities, I was fervent in my desire to successfully bag something. And given I am devoted to ethical hunting, I had only two choices in the blind this afternoon; ignore the turkeys again because I didn’t have my shotgun, or use my crossbow as my weapon. My choice was made. Although I did not capture the swift shot on my camera, I did videograph field dressing the turkey. And I did quite enjoy fresh turkey liver and heart as hors devours this evening, simmered in a pan with butter and seasoning.

Tomorrow I will go back out in the blind first thing before sun-up, rifle in one hand and crossbow in the other. There are no distractions in my mind now; I have my turkey at long last. I can now focus strictly on bagging my deer. If only I can keep Murphy away while I hunt.

A nice sized hen I bagged this afternoon using my Parker Challenger crossbow with a G5 Montec broadhead.

A nice sized hen I bagged this afternoon using my Parker Challenger crossbow with a G5 Montec broadhead.

Preparing for Deer Season

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Less than two months until deer season opens for archery in the great state of Kansas. This summer has provided strange weather systems with a week here and there of unseasonably cool temps with thunderstorms and flooding, and typical hot and humid days that make me long for winter. Today is the end of the weekend, with rain showers and clouds this morning and a combination of heat and humidity this afternoon that make it feel six degrees hotter than it really is. And thanks to the extra rain this season, which we really needed, the mosquitoes have propagated like the wild fire in California.

Between the heat, humidity and mosquitoes I prefer to remain home-bound, where my air conditioner keeps me relatively comfortable. Staying indoors works out well, theoretically, because I have an online course to complete in PTSD, plus myriad books I’ve started, and hunting magazines piling up. Yet… I have not touched my PTSD course this weekend, already obsessed with hunting season. In my defense, my work as a clinical supervisor and substance abuse counselor for soldiers is quite anxiety producing, as is my son’s upcoming deployment, and the hastening destruction of this Country that I love. Makes a gal just want to shut down for a while.

Preparing for the upcoming hunt season, however, has not escaped me. Friday, my service dog and I drove two hours to Cabelas in Kansas City, Kansas in order to do some shopping. A friend and co-worker in the ASAP (Army Substance Abuse Program) gave me an event invitation to Cabelas for this weekend to shop with employee discount savings. My SD and I managed to spend three hours in the store, including a lovely lunch of smoked elk sandwich, in order to make the four-hour roundtrip drive worth it. My chiropractor, a hunter, had suggested I get a Thermacell mosquito repellant for the warmer autumn days at the beginning of the season. I also bought some vanity items, like a Cabelas t-shirt in tan and burnt orange with a buck on the back, and a burnt orange Cabelas ball cap to match.

One of my super finds at Cabelas, in the bargain shop, was a booklet published by Wildlife Research Center. The Hunting Scent Book is really a meaty advertisement for the various scenting products that WRC sells; but I have found it most informative, as I’ve used scenting products without an actual understanding of when, why, and where. So far, I have found the section on mock scrapes the most informative because of the potential value of the mock scrape as a tool. Prior to this weekend, I’d never even heard the term.

My desire to utilize the mock scrape led me to Walmart first thing this morning to shop for a scraping device (as shown on one of several You Tube videos I watched in bed last night) and scents. Apparently it’s too early in summer yet for Walmart to have anything besides clothes in the hunting department; although a new pallet of deer corn had been placed out… so I bought two large bags. Off I went to Orscheln’s farm store to see if they had scents out yet. Their products had not yet been unpacked, but I did still manage to buy a few items that may be handy at some point (that’s why I converted a wooden Army ammo box into a storage container for hunting accessories). Once home, I went online to Bass Pro Shops and ordered scent products, which I’ll pick up in-store on my upcoming trip to Florida for my son’s deployment ceremony.

The calendar in my mobile phone has already been set to notify me as opening day for deer-archery approaches, as well as to remind me of the weekend of pre-rut antlerless rifle hunting, and when autumn turkey season begins. I’m not really sure how the hunters of yesteryear managed without the myriad aids and tools that I seem to be accumulating. And then there’s the hunting attire, which used to be slacks and a blazer or coveralls and work boots. While endeavoring to purchase on a budget, I have acquired SHE apparel hunting pants, scent control long sleeve t-shirt and button-up long sleeve shirt, my camo winter coat purchased last year at Walmart, various camo shirts, and moisture wicking long johns for cold weather hunting, plus various face masks, hunting caps, and three different types of face paint. I’m not sure what type of tree I’m aspiring to be, but it’s all more kosher to the Flint Hills environ than my BDU pants are (although I managed to bag my doe last year while wearing my BDU Army pants). My bathroom cupboard has three packages of different types of scent eliminating dryer sheets, two jugs of scent eliminating laundry detergent, bar soap, liquid body soap/shampoo, and deodorant and foot powder. I’ve spent more money on personal hygiene products and “make-up” for hunting than on average for dressing professionally and attractively at work. I hope the deer appreciate my efforts… by ignoring me and allowing me a shot or two.

Since the end of March, I have also been providing feed and minerals to the deer near my blind so my Motrie game camera can pick up the action. Recently I started my journal of days and times that the deer come to feed in order to begin tracking their movement. I’ve had my “upland” blind out since April (for my unsuccessful turkey hunting) and have another Ameristep blind to place in my hunting spot near the pond, where I bagged my deer in November. Soon I will set up another game camera, down by the pond, and do my mock scrapes in the area of each blind. I sincerely wish to bag a buck this year with my crossbow, and get my doe with my Browning 270 during the antlerless-pre-rut hunt in October. My one and only deer during the 2014 hunt lasted half a year, so I’d like to get two deer this year to keep my freezer stocked.

Until the deer season opens, I will have to be content to catch a glimpse of deer here and there. Most recently I saw a small doe and a young buck munching on breakfast at the edge of the woods next to my apartment complex. I’ve also had enjoyable sightings of skunks (a cute pair frolicking), rabbits, and since turkey season ended – turkeys. I’ve been meaning to sit in the blind early one Saturday to squirrel hunt, but have either slept through the dawn or chosen to pass because of weather.

All in all I find myself day dreaming for autumn and the next hunt challenge; excited by my second deer season, and curious to learn if my studying and new tools will improve my odds. I’m also thrilled to engage in another year of hunting, to legitimize my desire and new-found passion. I turn 53 later this month with the goal of embodying my belief that you’re never too old to learn to hunt.

Ethics and Turkey Hunting

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It is ironic that my spring turkey season is beginning to resemble my autumn deer season; already I have logged over 25 hours in the blind with not so much as a jake sighting. I truly hope to bag my first turkey before I hit the 40 hour mark! The greatest irony, however, is that the Saturday morning I spent in the blind two weeks ago armed only with my Nikon camera and box call produced multiple sightings and auditory confirmation of turkeys in the area. Hindsight is always 20-20, but I wish I would have brought my crossbow with me that Saturday and I could have shot a nice jake with a 6-7 inch beard that very day.

It’s rather like all the times I don’t have my .22 rifle with me and I see squirrels and rabbits, but when I do bring it, the critters seem scarce. Perhaps G-d’s creatures know that without a weapon I will look upon them with admiration and appreciation; but when armed I’m out for blood.

The greater issue regarding the absence of turkeys seems to be an ethical one, more than their keen intuitive powers. The military reserve land adjacent to my friend’s property, where I hunt, is archery only, as designated on the post hunting and fishing map. Yet every day I sit in my blind I hear shotgun blasts coming from those woods, much as I heard rifles during the extended deer season. Whether or not the hunters on the military side are aware that the area is archery only doesn’t seem to matter to them. This is one reason it is an ethical issue. It is also an ethical issue because no one should be hunting those woods without first knowing what the area is designated for. The map is available online, and Outdoor Education, as well as the Conservation Branch, have the information readily available. I learned today that prior to hunting on the installation, every hunter must watch a hunting video at the Conservation office. As it is written; ignorance of the law is no excuse.

Because the hunters are hunting with shotguns in an archery only area, they tend to hunt unethically as well; or so my ears tell me. The second day of turkey season I spent 12 hours in my blind. The shotgun blasts on the military reservation side of the woods were unceasing, and it sounded as if people were hunting in close proximity to each other and unloading ammunition on the powerless turkeys. Granted, the point of hunting is to find game, kill game, and dress the game so as to eat the game. But there are ethical ways to hunt, and non-ethical ways. I mentioned something similar in one of my initial essays, during deer season; an ethical hunter sights in on his or her target, breathes, and squeezes the trigger. It is our responsibility as hunters to ensure a humane kill, and not to hit and injure animals needlessly.

Part of the ethical hunting culture is the purchase of game tags, and each season has a specific limit. Spring turkey season allows for a two bird limit with two tags, and only turkeys with a visible beard are allowed to be hunted. With the shotgun blasts I’ve been hearing in the woods, I can only imagine hens and jakes are being injured, and hunters are taking more than their limit. Another ethical, and legal, issue is that Fort Riley has specific regulations regarding hunting on the reservation. No hunter can be within 200 yards of any other hunter who is not in his hunting party. I’ve heard people hunting at the property line, between the military reservation and my friend’s land. My blind is less than 200 yards from the property line, so any hunter hunting near the property line places me at risk and is violating post regulations.

The third major issue I have is that the hunters are careless regarding the boundary between the installation and the privately owned land. As with deer season, when my friend had to run hunters off his property, hunters have crossed over onto the privately owned land near my blind. Not only has the barbed wire fence at the property line been squashed for stepping over, it has also been cut, and I found a 12 gauge shot shell several feet from where I hunt. I am hunting with a 20 gauge, I’ve had zero opportunity to fire a shot, and my friend has been extremely kind in allowing me access to his property, but no one else. Even my friend, John, who owns the land, isn’t hunting because he wants me to have the opportunity to get experience and to feel safe.

It really burns my veteran butt when soldiers violate the very freedom they have sworn to uphold; in this case – property rights. The Third Amendment in the Bill of Rights protects against the quartering of soldiers on private property. Now I get hunting is different than quartering, but it supports my point. And the Fifth Amendment states that it protects against, in part, the deprivation of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation. Ipso facto, trespassing on private land is a violation of the oath of enlistment which states, “I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States….” And violation of one’s oath is a major ethical issue as far as I’m concerned.

In order to address the issue, I contacted the Director of the Conservation Branch of the Public Works Directorate and explained what is happening in the archery-only woods beside where I hunt. He seemed mildly interested and stated he forwarded my information on to the lead game warden so the game warden could contact me. I’ve heard nothing… but on-going shotguns in the archery-only woods. I did notice some new boundary signs were placed at the border between the reservation and my friend’s land; however the signs face the privately owned land and not the hunters on the military reservation who would normally cross over onto the private property. I’ve seen zero signs posted proclaiming the woods are archery only, which might help dissuade some hunters from using rifles and shotguns in the area, as they’re clearly not reading the map (or ignoring it). I’ve also notified my friend and the landowner on his other side about the woods being archery only, so if they feel inclined they can contact the Director of Conservation as well.

Since joining the minority of Americans who hunt, I have become addicted to the experience, and ready at a moment’s notice to don my camouflage apparel and hit the blind. But as with the other areas of my life, I believe in a strong code of ethics, and I believe ethics in hunting is of utmost importance if we are to maintain the right to hunt in an era when liberty is under attack much like the USS Liberty was in 1967.

Turkey season goes through the end of May, and I will utilize as much time in the blind as I can, until I can bag at least one long beard. And you can be assured that my hunt is an ethical one; with appropriate precautions and practice in place. One shot, one turkey. Now; hopefully I will see some soon, and they won’t all be stuck in the firing zone on the military installation side of the woods.

For a quick but worthy read on ethical hunting, I recommend, “Beyond Fair Chase: The Ethic & Tradition of Hunting,” by Jim Posewitz.

In the blind by 0530 and calling turkey at 0630, using my Illusion box call, Mossberg shotgun in my lap.

In the blind by 0530 and calling turkey at 0630, using my Illusion box call, Mossberg shotgun in my lap.