I shot this deer earlier in the year and trailed it until after midnight, when my friend and I lost the blood trail. I was sick over losing it and had gone back out a few times to find the carcass. Friends of my friend found him a week ago. I should get his skull in the next week or so. I still hadn’t given up on it. I wish I was able to use his meat but I’m just glad to have some closure. I was using a doe bleat can and he came walking up behind me. I took a shot behind me and he jumped a fence and ran off like nothing happened.  When I got down to see if I even hit him I found a big pile of foamy pink blood: lung shot. I tracked him for almost half a mile before I finally lost the blood trail.

I was torn up over wasting him.

Alan sent that to me in a text a few nights ago. Even as a wild and mischievous teenager he was always incredibly compassionate towards animals. He was the one who got me into fly fishing, and I can remember listening to him talk about fish handling or best catch and release practices before it became as popular as it is now. I can definitely understand his mourning over this deer.

If you’ve ever been a similar situation, or killed an animal by accident, chances are you can empathize. It isn’t like the sitcom scene where the characters are weeping over roadkill. Certainly there is some sadness over the loss of life, but the death isn’t the point. In hunting, death is the goal. Death is often celebrated. But when the death comes inadvertently or in a way that isn’t ideal, the whole dynamic shifts.

There isn’t any sport in accidentally hitting an animal with your car, or coming across the carcass of something that got stuck in a fence. Poachers draw the ire of hunters for exploiting an unfair and illegal advantage, but also for pursuing animals when they are often vulnerable.

Today, many people might not understand the distinction being drawn. Killing is killing, right? Culturally, as we move away from the woods and towards the supermarket we lose sight of the holistic nature of life. Killing can be harvesting, killing can be hunting, but killing isn’t always just killing.

In contemporary fly fishing, taking fish is almost unheard of. A dead fish on social media will cause a stir. Fingers through the gills will lead to fingers (digitally) pointed. So many places that we fish have been regulated as “no kill” that the thought of harvesting a trout or bass is taboo. I’m very thankful for specially regulated water. It has its place and purpose, and I’d like to see a lot more of it.

But the issue at hand is how fishing within this framework has shifted our collective outlook on killing fish. Hooking a small fish on a large hook, hooking a fish deeply, a long fight, or catching a stressed fish will invariably lead to death. And this isn’t always the result of anglers carelessly using inappropriate gear, fishing in the wrong season, or not knowing how to play a fish.

Sometimes the act of catching a fish kills the fish.

Why would we assume a 100% survival rate, given the nature of the sport? I’m not advocating any kind of change whatsoever, except for perhaps in the Pollyanna optimism that assumes that “catch and release” means “I’m okay, you’re okay.” Statistics vary wildly, citing anywhere from only 5% up to 30% mortality for fish that have been released after a fight. I don’t know what end of the spectrum to believe, but at least some fish have to be dying. That is the character of fishing, but seeking to avoid it at all costs will fundamentally change the sport.

So what is the angler to do? Obviously crimped barbs, strong tippet, avoiding extreme temperatures, and gentle handling are more than reasonable. More important than all of that is respect and perspective. Yes, we’re just talking about animals. But whether it is deer or trout, squirrel or bluegill, they are all living things squarely at the center of the activities loved by sportsmen and women.

Wild game should be appreciated. Without getting to crunchy or touchy-feely, the truth is that most animals have it hard before you factor the human element into things. A trophy elk or a 50” musky has been living a lucky life to avoid predation, accidents, or whatever civilization can throw at them. Simply seeing an animal, having an encounter with it, or even taking it shouldn’t be done flippantly. Cultures that kill as part of the daily routine maintain a mindset of respect and even honor for the animals they live with and need to live.

Alan’s grief was understandable. It wasn’t just missing out on a freezer full of venison, but a deer that was wasted. Shot, killed, and lost. That deer, and deer in general, don’t have the capacity to appreciate grief. However, his mindset of care and respect means volumes to other hunters, anglers, and onlookers.

More than anything else, it is this mindset that acts as the safety on a gun, is the determining factor in going fishing or not, and even brings significance to the dish made with game. A healthy relationship with the rivers, woods, and the life within them ensures that the experience is both enjoyable as well as sustainable. Hunting and fishing that way will never be a waste.