Hunting freaks me out. I couldn't even kill the praying mantis that was mortally wounded by our garage door.
On the other hand, my husband, his family and all of my attorneys are blood-thirsty hunters. They're kinda like Noah, in that they seem to have the goal of collecting 2 of every animal. (I said kinda like Noah.) They hunt everything: Deer, wild pigs, turkeys, elk, grouse, rabbits, geese and swans. Swans!?
Hunting may freak me out, but I'm not exactly anti-gun. I'll go shooting with Que's family. We annually buy pumpkins from a local patch the day after Halloween, take the pumpkins to an undisclosed location and blow the shivvy out of them. (Pardon my language.) Bustin' a cap in a defenseless pumpkin is about as close as I come to killing something with a gun.
I've gone on hunting trips with Que and his family before. I took the above photo of this doe while my dear husband was out trying to fill her deer husband full of arrows. This year I decided to sit it out. Even though the thought of hunting hurts my heart, I am strangely conflicted about it. I personally don't want to hunt anything (besides pumpkins), but I don't want to stop other people from hunting either. I find myself actually hoping Que gets a deer; I just hope I don't have to see it. (The first year we were married, Que got a deer and left it strung-up in our carport; I walked outside and saw it.)
My attorneys went on a goose hunting trip to Canada earlier this year. In honor of that, I doctored this Far Side cartoon with my lead attorney, Bruce's name and put it on our office bulletin board. I'm pretty sure this is what Bruce will be doing as soon as he gets to heaven. (In case you can't read the caption, it says "You sure you're supposed to be doin' that, Bruce?")
Ironically, I feel like I can put up with things like decapitated deer heads and large dead fish (with teeth!) mounted on the walls. (The above Alaskan salmon lives in our law office.) That being said, I have but one rule: No stuffed birds. No geese, grouse, chucker, owls, swans or sparrows. I don't want my house (or my workplace) to look like The Bates Motel.
3 comments:
My husband took me hunting one year when I was over 7 months pregnant. He gutted it right in front of me and that's the last time I went hunting with him.
I love deer jerky, but I don't want to have to kill one to get it. Hunting's just not my thing.
Swans? You forgot to explain that.
The only thing I ever got on a hunting trip was pregnant. I sent the hubby out alone after that. LOL!
Rebecca: Wow. My run-in with the legless/furless deer in my carport pales in comparison. I haven't tried deer jerky, but I *have* been made to try deer heart. I am sorry to report that it does NOT taste like roast beef, as I was led to believe.
Marsha: LOL! For some reason, my attnys like to shoot swans. SWANS. I don't know what you would do with a dead swan; are they good eating? I have no idea. I'm not sure I want to find out.
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