I have posted part of this before (read more spiritual version here) Today's post is part of Duane Scott's madness he affectingly calls: Pleasantly Disturbed Thursdays. Head on over and read some really disturbed stuff.
Growing up in a rural area in upper NY State, I was exposed to rare culinary…uhm, treats. One of the more common entrées was the fuzzy gray speed bump known as the squirrel. My father hunted for them often, which never seemed much of a challenge to me since our cat had no problem catching one in our backyard. However, my father would come back from hunting with a few and act like it was from some dangerous safari expedition. Our cat would just drop one at the front door and be done with it, all the while looking at my father with pity. No, eating them would prove to be a far greater challenge.
Since we were quite poor, squirrel graced our table frequently, along with rabbit, pheasants and venison. My Mom’s squirrel stew was enough to place the little gray rodent on the endangered species list. That is, your species was very much in danger if you ate too much of it.
I have learned through the years that there are some disturbing side-affects for eating so much game meat. Here are just a few that I have observed.
A great desire to raid neighbors bird feeders and to run back and
forth in front of passing cars.
I have seven kids, enough said.
A deep fear of being under glass enclosures.
The phrase, “Passing the buck” brings up past feelings of rejection.
Don’t even bring up Bambi.