![]() ![]() What did I want to instill in him or her? What values? Hunting had taught me so much and I wanted to pass those things down to my future child. I pondered if my child would grow up wanting to venture out with me in these woods and roam the deserts with me, like I did with my dad. Will my wife get crazy cravings? Am I going to faint in the hospital? Am I ready to be a dad? Would I be a good dad? Am I going to be super protective if it’s a girl? If it’s a boy, should I name him Theodore Roosevelt Ramirez? What if they are a picky eater? Poop and pee… Lots of it… ugh! Obviously, I was a bit overwhelmed. How was I going to balance my passions, my growing family and my other responsibilities? As I ventured into the San Diego mountains with this old relic made of wood and steel, I found myself thinking more of the future rather than gobblers. ![]() Or were they? I knew I never wanted to stop hunting again… and I knew my life was not going to be the same ever again once that little bundle of joy entered this world. Things were really in perspective at this point of my life. By the time I headed out for gobblers in the Spring of ’15, I just found out I was going to be a dad. ![]() I had just got back into hunting from a short hiatus. Shortly after I took her out that same season for a Spring Turkey hunt. The first time I took that old Model 37 out was for a spur of the moment predator hunt back in 2015. ![]()
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