This one is about pigs, I was 5 yrs old and we lived on a farm with lots of animals including 6 Weiner pigs, each year my dad would have the butcher come over and slaughter the pigs giving him one for the job, well the idea was to do one a night when the guy got off his regular job but I threw a monkey wrench into that, I watched as my dad threw in some slop to the pigs and as they came up to the slop the butcher shot one in the head with a 22 rifle just like mine, then he set it down and they went to work on it, well I liked the pigs because me and my brothers used to ride them around the pen and feed them toads out of the creek, I felt pretty bad about them shooting my favorite racer so after they went to the barn to finish dressing the pig I decided to give the other pigs some fresh toads so they wouldn't feel bad about losing their friend. I caught some toads and took them out to the pen to sooth their loss. I held out my hand and the first pig went for the toad and my hand, damn thing chomped down and thinking I was playing tug of war started shaking, ( oh did I mention we used to tease the pigs?) I got loose with some scratched fingers and a mad on. I remember picking up that rifle and tossing a toad into the pin when one came to get it I put the muzzle against its head and fired, one down. I used the toad bait on all 5 of them then went to tell my dad I had finished up the pigs for him, on the way to the barn I stopped and settled up a score with a goose and a peacock who had been my nemeses for several years, I probably could have settled things with a bull and a neighbors dog while I was at it but I was out of ammo.
Thats when I learned about not picking up guns from my dad and a piece of barn siding.