My Dad gave me a single shot .22 as my first rifle. Our land was infested with ground squirrels and I was given the go-ahead on no limit hunting. This is where he re-re-reinforced the basics of gun safety, such as know what’s behind your target. Like our house. I think I was 11.
Today, the youngest is going off to college but still loves to shoot the old 22.
I keep it in the den loaded with number 12 bird shot for plinking little rascals.
That rifle will still be in service when I'm in the ground.
I can't begin to estimate the number of rounds that have been fired and the hundreds of hours of pleasure that it has brought to my family.