- Apr 19, 2013
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I did the same thing, except it was a neighbor's deer feet since my family didn't hunt. I think my grandfather was the last person in my family to hunt. I have been fishing a few times, but not a lot. I just wasn't exposed to killing animals for food. I was absolutely fascinated by watching the beating heart of the (supposedly) pithed frog. It wasn't until the ether wore off, the heart started racing and the frog struggling and writhing that I got upset--really, really upset.I remember as little girls, my sister and I keeping the legs from the deer Dad had killed and using them to make tracks in the mud...we had a lot of fun with animal parts back then. I bet a lot of folks nowadays would be horrified by that. Deer legs, squirrel tails, turkey wings...you name it, we played with it, saved it, and was fascinated by it. We used to help Mom butcher chickens and ask to see the contents of the crop and gizzard...always so interesting!![]()
My feelings about death are on the neurotic side of the spectrum, no doubt about it, but I think they are more common in this day and age because the experience of slaughter is so far removed from most of society. I worry my 21-year old son, a fervent animal lover, will be unable to eat any of the chickens I produce. (I've only cooked three little Silkies, so there is time for him to come around yet.) He was a biology major at university, but the dissection of the pithed frogs really upset him as well. I will be unhappy if I raise my own chickens for slaughter, yet buy store-bought garbage for him.