I early fall of 1992, I shot a Whitetail doe from a treestand with a Bear compound bow. It was a perfect 18 yard broadside shot and the doe ran less than 40 yards. I was 14 bright-eyed years old and it was my first kill of a large game animal. I ran to the house and got my grandfater who was holdin' court. (A complicated process involving retired Ford workers discussing how easy current Ford workers have it.)
Grandpa and two buddies took the hike to help watch me drag and clean the doe (the buddies offered much helpful advise, such as "I sure wouldn't do it like that." and "watch out for that bush" and "I think that's the liver, no no the lungs.") The first thing grandpa did was stick 3 fingers into the wound and mark me from my forehead to the chin with 3 parallel blood trails.
As grandpa was walking me though the gut cut (I had helped my whole life, but the rule in my family is that if you kill it you clean it, so this was my 1st time doing the cuttin myself), I discovered to my horror that the doe was still lactating. For some reason that botherd me more than the blood and guts. Grandpa, being a compasionate and sensitive individual, as most retired autoworkers are, reached down, grabbed a teat, and squirted it. The 1st shot hit me in my leg, and in response my mouth dropped to make a surprised noise. This was exactly what the ol.....um...my esteemed and respected grandfather was waiting for and he squirted me in my mouth. I responded by instantly throwing up, but not IN the deer.
That was MY initiation. What was yours?