How to catch a Turkey
When I was a little kid in South Dakota, my Dad was less than rich, and his shotgun sometimes put meat on the table. My mom says the very sight of a pheasant now would send her screaming into the night. I dimly remember very small and durable drumsticks, and picking shot out of my mouth.
As far as I know, we never ate jackrabbits, although they were abundant in South Dakota, and were the symbol of the university my Dad went to. I get the distinct impression from looking at one that they would probably chew like beef jerky.
...much better than waiting in a deer blind with your gun sighted in on a damn salt-lick.
As Hank Hill said about that kind of deer hunting, "That just ain't right."