When I was tiny I wore a rabbit-skin coat and ate rabbit two or three times a week, courtesy of my father and his 22-calibre hunting rifle. My parents had gone back to the land in that 1970s idealistic way and we lived in a log cabin - hand built by Dad - surrounded by scrubby bushland in the hinterland of the NSW south coast. Later when my parents went their separate ways and moved back to the city, Dad's gun came with him. The wooden rifle sat propped against the... (GunPolicy.org)