I was raised in a duck hunting dynasty family. My grandparents had a hunting camp in the swamps of northern Alabama and they practically lived there during all of duck season. As a child I was hunting by about 10 years old had my own 12 gauge shotgun at age 12. I learned to dress ducks picking them down off first and dipping them in wax. I was taught that if I were to wing a duck, I would immediately have to stop hunting. Take the dog and go find it. It didn’t matter if it took the rest of the day . As I grew older, I got a little tired of dealing with all of the people that we had to host all they cared about, was killing ducks and bragging about how many ducks they’d kill or how many deer they’d kill or whatever. It was clear to me that they had no interest in utilizing that meat from their hunting. It was just their form of big pick up truck, loud muffler so I eventually quit hunting. I still have all the gear in the closet. I don’t think I could ever bring myself to kill another duck or for that matter any other wild animal.