My most memorable memory is not a good one, but here it goes. Me and two friends were hunting near my hometown of Sherrard, IL. We were a few miles away from any homes or anything hunting some draws and corn fields for pheasant when I see me dad and my friends dad walking towards us on the other side of the field. Neither are carrying guns, so it hits me that they are looking for us which is something that had never happened before. I immeditely get a knot in the pit of my stomach because I know something is very wrong with this picture. When they finally reach us, my dad puts his arm around me and tells me that my new puppy had been run over and killed. To make matters worse, my dad witnessed the lady hit the dog and then proceed to speed away. I was crushed, and just felt like my best friend had died. I was 13 years old. My best memory was my first cock pheasant taken with my new Winchester 1200 20 gauge. I was 12 years old.