Sport Shooting

I’ve become quite fond and appreciative of my dermatologist of many years -- the man who has saved me from skin cancer repeatedly.  But long ago I recognized how diametrically opposed his politics and mine are.  And I’ve come to accept his love of guns and of shooting animals.

He now lives in semi-retirement on a farm on Kent Island, near Annapolis in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay.  When I was in for a routine check-up last month, he shared with me the fact that he had just bought 150 baby ducks.  I quickly realized the ducks were not for stocking a pond, but rather to give him target practice that would allow him to exceed the legal limit of 4 wild ducks a day.  He confirmed that that indeed was the case.

Yesterday I was in to get a small keratosis on my forehead frozen.  I asked how his ducks were doing.  He said his attention was now on a den of foxes that were killing his chickens.  It’s a mother fox and her young.  He figured out that he could eliminate the problem by killing the mother, but he’s not ready to do that yet because foxes are good target practice too even if along the way a few more chickens bite the dust.  He said he shot at one the other day but missed.  He was glad in a way that he had missed because that will prolong the hunt.

If he wasn’t such a good doctor, I might have left the practice long ago.  But he’s always on time and is widely recognized as one of the best in the city.  Yesterday my appointment was at 9:15.  I got there a few minutes early and walked out with my frozen keratosis at 9:12.  You can’t beat that for efficiency.

I keep hoping he will look into the eyes of those baby ducks or even the little foxes and have a change of heart, but I think that is about as likely as his voting for a Democrat in the next election.