“Honey, can you shoot me a bison?”
I’ll never forget the summer of 2005, when my gorgeous wife walked into my office, while I was cleaning my guns and talking to my two hunting bros about our next adventure, and asked me to hunt a buffalo.
‘We’d get a freezer full of meat and a bison shoulder mount would look beautiful on our walls,” she said.
Let’s see… a wife asking her husband, in our paranormal state of aggravated pussification, to go hunting, bank some grub and then have the beast mounted and displayed proudly upon the walls? All I had to say to that unforgettable scenario was … Yahtzee!; and, of course, Thank you, Jesus!
After she asked me to go hunt an American bison she smiled and left. Be still, my beating heart.
My friends sat there gob-smacked… stupefied… that a wife would actually ask her husband to hunt. I know some folks in Texas and Alaska don’t find that odd, but in Miami, and from what I’ve experienced with hunting and couples from around the globe, that was some Twilight Zone stuff.
My single buddy who witnessed this divine event asked if she had an unmarried sister. My married compadre chimed in and said, “Hell would freeze over before my wife would ever ask me to go hunting.”
I can’t lie to you, folks. I felt a combination of blessedness and sorrow: blessed because, hallelujah, I didn’t marry some testicle-snippin’-carpy-wife-from-hell; and sadness because of my single mate’s grim situation of slim-pickedness and my married amigo’s state of hen-peckedness.
Because I hunt and fish a lot, and I write about my pursuits afield, I’ve been blessed to know many professional hunters, guides and outfitters from Alaska to Africa and I’ve been instrumental in hooking people up on epic adventures from boar hunts to cape buffalo hunts and everything in between. I’ve also been on the receiving end of hearing guys who’d like to hunt tell me they can’t go hunting because… wait for it… “Their wife won’t let them.”
“Their wife won’t let them”? What kind of grown man actually says something like that?