My father's family, whom I love and admire, are avid hunters--the men, the women, and the children.
My father was not, though he loved to fish, but I never heard him comment one way or another about hunting.
When I was a teenager I hunted with my family. I have killed ducks, and I have been involved with killing deer, boar, racoons, possoms, and other animals, though I never killed one myself. I hated watching them die.
I never liked hunting because I never enjoyed subjecting an animal to pain, terror, and death, and I never understood how anyone could. I still don't.
I have no problem with others who do--including my family members.
I am also a vegetarian--for the same reason, I suppose--but I have no quarrel with those who are not.
Incidentally, a dear friend invited me for dinner, and as a special surprise, she served me venison, that someone had given her. (She forgot that I was a veg.) I ate it. I appreciated her kindness. I would do it again.
(I ate it. I appreciated her kindness. I would do it again.)
Then your not a veggie, your a hypocrite.
Well, that's fine. More for me.