Not that he needs my sympathy or anything. But Keith was old-school, for all that he was also a great innovator, and one thing about him that always got on my nerves is that he saw absolutely nothing wrong with shooting everything that moved. When he was evaluating a gun or a cartridge or a bullet design, he tested it on jackrabbits, deer, cougars, hawks, coyotes, tourists, Jehovah’s Witnesses…
I always wondered why he was so damned sentimental about paper targets. Look, I’m no frickin’ vegan. I kill my own meat, and have no problem with others doing the same. And I’ve killed to protect my food. I’ve killed animals just because they pissed me off. But I don’t shoot animals for fun, or for target practice. That’s what targets are for.
Only this summer, I’m starting to see things more his way. At least on the matter of jackrabbits. Geez, we’re up to our asses in them. They’re driving the dogs batshit. Yesterday I saw a jack at Landlady’s house so big at first I mistook it for a small fawn. This morning on the way to boot hill we must have flushed half a dozen, with the boys bruising their noses on the glass.
I’m really, seriously tempted to put some of the things Keith wrote about .44 Special and jackrabbits to a serious test. I have the wherewithal, if not the skill.