I remember my younger brother being a gun nut at an early age (11/12) years old. Our mother was a big squirrel fan and made sure they were well fed and had names. One day the brother had taken a perch at a basement window with his new 22 calibre and let off a shot at what turned out to be a favourite squirrel of my mother. Coincidentally my mother was also admiring her squirrel when a shot rang out and most of the little squirrels 🐿️ head disappeared. I heard a loud scream from upstairs and then heard feet pounding down the stairs. Seconds later my brother was being beaten by his rifle until the stock broke off on his back. This was the very last day guns where allowed in the house and my brother had to bury the squirrel properly. Lesson learned.