Oops.
I lived on a ranch. I had a full Rock-Chucker reloading setup in a spare bedroom. I owned, at the same time, 30-06 and .308 rifles, a 12-gauge shotgun, and .45, .44 magnum, .357 magnum, 9 mm, .38 Special and .22 magnum handguns as well as a .44 Navy black powder pistol. Mutiple versions of the handguns, including a custom Colt Python.
My boss at one time was one of the premier outdoor writers in America. He wrote for the American Sportsman TV show and was hunting buddies with Curt Gowdy and Ted Williams. I went hunting with him once. One of the single most disgusting and repulsive experiences of my life. Whatever the bag limit on dove was, he shot triple the limit. That night, he cheerfully popped off the heads like it was fun, virtually orgasmic as he drenched himself in blood. It was beyond weird - it was deeply, deeply sick.
With my first shot, I downed a dove by pure dumb luck. As the poor thing gurgled and died in my hand, I vowed NEVER, EVER AGAIN. I regard hunters as subhuman, a level below abortionists. Downing an elk with a 30-06 has nothing to do with the "cycle of life" or "respect for life."
Since
@Adrift is 75, your batting average on guesses today is .000.