Guns Galore

My grandfather had guns galore.  There were five at the back door and two under his sofa.  He'd served in the police for sometimes, been a marksman for years and had trophies to celebrate his "pheasant's eye".  We never knew what that term meant!  One day I asked to shoot one of the guns.  I think I was seven.  He took me out the back door by the hand to the fields behind carrying a double barrel shotgun.  He carefully loaded it up and handed me the gun.  It felt as big and as heavy as me.  He showed me how to hold it to my shoulder, aim and told me to pull the trigger.  The gun went off and almost dislocated my shoulder knocking me clear off my feet.  I never asked or went near his guns ever again.  I see now that was his aim.  Spot on as always with that "pheasant's eye" of his.