The first one I ever killed with a .22 rifle was just that size, or at least that was the size I told my dad it was. I was his favorite of all the sons, and he used to brag to Mom about me. I heard him tell Mom one night after everybody was supposed to be in bed that I sure wasn't afraid of hard work. She asked him if that was right, and he said it sure was, and that he knew I wasn't afraid of hard work because I would lay right down beside it and take a nap. It still brings a tear to my eye.
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"When you have shot one bird flying, you have shot all bird's flying. ...the sensation is the same, and the last one is as good as the first." E. Hemingway "Fathers and Sons"
