She threw up last night, beside me in bed, hugging the potato chip bowl while her hair hung limp and her eyes teared large. "I don't feel very good," she whimpered.
I wiped her face and kissed her head.
"I think I need my moose pelt, Mommy."
{If it were a real moose pelt it would smell like taxidermy shampoo and feel like cow hide and be accompanied by animal rights activists trying to light my house on fire.}
I went and got her the blanket from her bedroom - a pink, blue and yellow number that had been cuddling Christmas, her Baby Alive Dolly.
"Why do you call it a moose pelt?" I asked her as she took it from my hands, rolled it into a ball and stuffed it against her side before she lay back down.
"I don't know," she said sleepily, "I just like the way it sounds."
I am NOT a vegetarian. I am a CARNIVORE.
I do not believe in fur BUT I do believe in steaks.
Meat is a gift. Cruelty is a choice.
{I should go into the T-shirt business, no?}
What I'm trying to say is that I would NEVER have a real moose fur in my home BUT if a moose happened to wander in front of my car and I slammed into it (and didn't die a fiery death in a back road ditch when said car flipped over) I would eat that beast AND I WOULD LIKE IT!
I still remember the hard SLAM! and the quick stop and how my sister wept and wept and dad, he just loaded that wild body in the trunk like it was the most natural thing in the world while my sister wiped snot on her jacket. The poor deer! (The animal - not my sister.)
Waste not. Want not.
The church custodian came over to butcher it after we'd bled it in the barn. A freezer full of ground meat is nothing to scoff at.
It wouldn't be my father I'd call now - or the janitor, for that matter - instead I'd ring up my quirky redneck brother-in-law so he could take it back to the family farm and grind it into sausages.
And a freezer full of ground meat is nothing to scoff at!
Roadkill Chili! Roadkill Lasagna! Roadkill Sloppy Joes! You go over to his house and you never know what you're going to get! (I'd take a pound or two but he would keep/earn the largest chunk of it because of all the bloody work.)
I am not advocating the consumption of flattened groundhog, pancaked squirrel, or compressed raccoon. That's just gross. But venison rescued from the unmangled parts of an ill-fated deer? That's just wisdom.
* No animals were harmed in the making of this post
First - So sorry you have someone throwing up in the chip bowl. That is no fun for anyone and I hope she feels better soon. If not, who's going to take care of Christmas? As far as the moose pelt, if I lived in Canada that's what I would call my woobie.
ReplyDeleteSecond - Whew...glad you straightened roadkill thing up for me. Our list of similarities continues to grow - I Too Am A Carnivore! You just had me worried about that roadkill thing. You see, in the great state of Texas it is illegal to pick up an animal that has been killed by a motor vehicle. Fault or no fault. A deer could run into the side of your vehicle and cost you $1000's in repairs and you have to leave it. You are supposed to call Parks and Wildlife and they will come get it, but I don't think they rush right out.
Then there is that small population in the eastern side of the state (closer to Arkansas) that will stop and get (fill in the blank), and turn it into a pot of stew, without concern for how long it's been there. (gross) Around my parts, the majority of what I see on the side of the road - skunks! We just cover our nose/mouth and drive like crazy to get past it.
I have eaten venison and I have eaten elk. I stick to beef these days - grass fed is preferred. I don't like to eat meat that has been fed out on corn and all the hunters around here set up deer feeders, on timers, and fill them with corn. Then they put up cameras all year and watch what happens. When deer season comes around, they usually know to the minute when and what will come feed. It is sad really. I take every opportunity to point out that they are feeding corn to an animal that they claim to want to eat because it is natural? And - It IS NOT HUNTING. It is baiting and murder. All they while they sit in their deer blinds with all the comforts of home. It's crazy.
My Father-in-Law hunted. They would go out on horseback and track white-tail. They may be gone a week. You know, really roughing it, wild west style.
Not these days.
I don't even know if we have laws about roadkill here. Once I saw a truck full of shovels and the guys whole job was to scrape up the dead things along the road - but I've never heard of someone getting in trouble for helping him out a little ;)
DeleteI have great concerns about how long a deer has lain there - my brother-in-law has some rules he follows, ingrained after years of hunting, taught by a redneck father who knows the proper 'meat etiquette'
The whole baiting thing makes me sad.
Noa is feeling much better and Christmas is happily cocooned in the moose pelt again :)
We are a roadkill-eating family also. One fall weekend we were heading up to Manitoulin Island for hunter-son and father to harvest some Ruffed Grouse. I was driving and just before we got to Tobermory a chubby feathery blur flew in front of the car. Mom got the first Grouse that weekend.
ReplyDeleteHa! Love it :) I've never had grouse. Is it like chicken? Or duck? (I'm not a fan of duck!) Good for you for making use of what was put in your path!
Deletebhahahahahaha
ReplyDelete:)
DeleteI remember being devastated when we hit the deer! Funny how things have changed.
ReplyDeleteyou poor 'deer' ;)
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