On Saturday Matt and I were going out to have a fire, just the two of us. On the way, he stopped to feed the cats. He ran out of the shed and said, "Dad, I think there's a coon in the cat barn." So I went up and got the old 22 and headed out. Two shells later, we were in the garage skinning our first coon. It was a great adventure and another affirmation of why we bought the farm. Our hope is to tan the hide and for Matt to eventually have himself a real coonskin cap. Just call me Davy Crocket.