Great share. Kids sometimes have to grow up faster than others. I was running tractors, driving trucks on roads and climbing silos at a pretty young age. We had an old ford 8n that I drove the hay wagon with when I was probably 9 or 10. Was never allowed to run the planter or drill, no matter my age lol. Was actually doing those things earlier than I was allowed to hunt big game by myself.In my opinion it depends on the kid and the circumstances they were raised in. I'm an old fart and was raised in a different time, but here's how it was for me...
Born in Alaska, Dad a lifelong outdoorsman and Mom a full blooded Inupiat Eskimo. Alaska was a big unsettled wilderness in the 60's. At 4 years old I started going hunting with my Dad for 1 week each fall in remote Alaska (as in Denali Highway remote, 300 miles form Anchorage with not much in between). I had a toy lever action .30-30 that I took along on those hunts; the rule was, treat it like a real rifle when we are out hunting. Roger that Dad.
Did that drill with the toy rifle for 2 years, that one week and many weekends each fall. Must have passed in my Dad's eyes, as a single shot Remington .22 was under the Christmas tree when I was 6. The next fall, I got to carry that unloaded when we were hunting; if we saw ptarmigan, I got to load up and try to get one. Got a few ptarmigan that fall, and a few snowshoe rabbits that winter. I cleaned and gutted the animals that I shot myself.
I would ask to go with my Dad every time he went to shoot a new rifle or pistol. After the rifle was sighted in, I would get to shoot a few rounds at the target from 50 to 75 yards (open sights) - loading the rifle myself, operating the safety, and shooting when ready. In my lifetime, I have never had someone load a firearm for me. By the time I was 9, I showed that I could keep the shots in the black part of the target (an 8 or 9 inch circle) with our Ruger .44 Magnum Carbine out to 100 yards; as a result I got to carry the .44 Magnum hunting moose and caribou starting the fall of my 9th year. We owned 12 or 13 firearms at the time, and at 9 years old I could tell you what caliber each one was, what ammo went with that firearm, where the safety was, and how to load and unload that firearm. A kid can grasp a lot if they are interested in something, and I was REALLY interested in hunting.
When I was 11 and carrying the .44 Magnum Carbine, we saw 2 caribou about 200 yards away across an open saddle. Dad shot one, but the limit was down to 1 caribou per hunter that year due to 2 bad winters. As we sat there for a moment, I asked him if I could shoot the other one. It's too far for your rifle, he said (200 yards open sights - we hadn't practiced that far with the .44). I said, "Can I use your rifle?" It was a Winchester Model 88 in .308 caliber with a 4x Weaver scope, sighted in at 250 yards, and I had shot it at the end of his sight-in sessions. He thought for a moment, then handed me the rifle. I laid my little backpack on the ground, jacked a shell in the chamber, and got the caribou in 2 shots.
As for understanding what killing means - we lived mostly on moose and caribou meat. When we got an animal, we would bring it home and hang it in the garage. Dad would put a 1/4" plywood sheet on top the dinner table, my Mom would call her sisters, and they would cut the moose/caribou up right on the table, a quarter at a time. By the time I was 6, I had my own little knife and Mom would give me pieces of the stew meat to cut into little chunks before wrapping in freezer paper. We never kept a set of antlers, but we kept all of the meat from every animal we shot.
I know that was a different time and environment, but some kids have the ability to absorb a lot if given the opportunity. I was given that opportunity, and took advantage of it as best I could.