Don't read to much into it. I kill my first one in Brookneal, VA at 12 and never looked back. It's a fun bird to hunt. Nothing like hearing that erie gobble in the quiet woods in the morning or that lonesome hen that surprises you really close. Ask my son(less than 3' from him, we measured the distance to the track.) He listened well and didn't move. I was looking at his eyes the whole time. I seen the spark ignite. I wouldn't trade anything for the feeling that I had that morning. A hunter was being made. You know the feeling I hope.