So as the 1st of October came and passed, I thought back to my childhood and realized that my less than enthusiastic attitude towards the hunting season is very well justified.
Bob, my dad, was an avid hunter and every year I got to look forward to the carcass of a deer hanging from a tree, not just any tree, this was the tree that the rest of the year posed as my "boyfriend", I believe my sister shared the same "boyfriend". I would go outside and strike up a conversation, wooing this attractive being and occasionally plant a big ole smoochy on him-- I distinctly remember one incident when I was in the kitchen with my mother and she looked out the window and began snickering "You better watch out, he might just kiss you back!" What the? She looked at me and said "Your sister is out there kissing the tree!" why that two-timing son of a ! I ran outside and sure enough she was sitting by MY TREE!!!!!!
My poor tree, who in early fall would have Bambi strung up by his two back legs hanging upside down-- it was horrifying!
Years later, after a garage was added to our family home I was terribly surprised to open the garage door after arriving home from school to yet another deer strung up with it's innards exposed. . C'MON!!!! BOB!!! A girl shouldn't be witness to this barbaric nonsense. For the rest of the years I lived at home, every day in the fall I would open the garage door as if Chuckey, the Lakeshore Strangler, was going to be hiding behind the door.
It got even better when the skinned hind quarters were brought into the house laid upon the plastic covered kitchen table and hacked up with a handsaw, the sound of a saw going through bone was forever etched into my 5 year old mind and the highlight, well that was the smell.
And then for the next 6 months Millie,my mom, got to work her magic with the venison-- let's see, venison burger, venison chili, venison sausage, venison lasagna, venison spaghetti, venison tacos, venison meatballs and for a real treat venison dipped in egg, rolled in crackers and friend. . mmmmmm, tasty little morsels.
Millie got and A+ for creativity and Bob, well he headed back out into the great outdoors for more. Which was another reason hunting season was not a happy time, Bob went AWOL for months-- and we, me, Marci, Marie and my mom were left alone. I can say one thing for sure and that is that Millie tried to entertain the troops-- we ate dinner to the likes of the Fonz signing "Fonzie, Fonzie He's our man, if he can't do it no one can!", and ABBA, and The Bee-Gee's. She served up hamburgers laced with food coloring "mmmm, I'll take the blue one this evening, thanks mum!"
The line was eventually crossed by my cousin and soon to be brother- in -law when they proudly displayed their "buck" to me, as if they were showing me rare diamonds and pearls.
"Ummm, is that a dog???? "
"Do dogs have horns? Duh! You're such a girl"
"No, dogs don't have horns and neither does that. . what is it 45 pounds??? You're both DEEEEESGUSTING!!!!"
My bad. . . because when I went back outside an hour or so later my car was wrapped with intestines.
So you see, it's not that this repulsion for hunting just sprung up out of no where, it's legit! I truly feel sorry for those deer and more so for the poor women who have to creatively come up with ways to cook the meat so it doesn't taste "gamey" and more so for the kids who have to be witness to carcases displayed like trophies.
Run Bambi, Run!!!!
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