My father can’t accept the idea that I will never enjoy hunting. Each hunting season Dad tries to get me to go hunting with him. Before a hunt with my father, it is necessary to take a bath using unscented soaps and shampoos so the animals won’t be able to pick up your scent. When you go on a hunt, you must wake up very early and drive to his farm in the early morning hours when the night is totally dark and it is pitch black outside. When you get there you set up your hunting blind in the cold, wet snow with your gun, then you sit there in complete silence and with no heart. You can’t go to the bathroom or take a break to have coffee. After sitting in the dark and the cold for hours, an animal might wander by. Your reward for patiently sitting in the snow for hours without a heater is that you get a chance to kill this animal. How can that be any fun? After you shoot the animal, what do you do with it? I don’t like to eat wild game and I don’t want the hide, so the hunt was totally wasted on me. Also, I can’t stand being cold. For the entire time I spent sitting in the snow with my gun I was waiting for Dad to declare the hunt to be over. On his farm Dad has an old shed which is hooked up to a generator that can supply energy for the small electric heater he keeps at the shed. After the hunt we then get a chance to use the bathroom and take a coffee break while the cabin is warmed by the heat from the little electric heater. For me, that is clearly the best part of hunt. I would have preferred to have gotten up at a reasonable time, skipped killing anything, and just gone out to the shed for coffee and to visit with friends. That would have been so much better than going hunting.