Hunting animals is one of the most repulsive things I can think of. I always swore I would never marry a man who didn’t like my cats, or was a hunter.
I married a man who tolerates my cats, so I have to pretend like he doesn’t find enjoyment in killing Bambi.
It’s what I call compromise. It’s not that he kills to kill, venison is his favorite type of meat. Even though it smells like dirt, and I only touch it with tongs or a fork, I cook it for him.
Most of his trophies, have been antlers mounted on a board, and hung in the garage.
….and then he caught a big one. One with a set of antlers to have the dead head mounted in all its former glory.
I have a favorite all time NFL wide receiver, Steve Largent, of the Seattle Seahawks. He was perfect in my eyes. It took me many years to suck my family into my football obsession, but they came to expect me to say at some point during a game, “c’mon, Largent would have caught that!” Anyway, I have a poster of him–he hides in the closet.
I told my husband if he were to ever hang a dead deer head on the wall, I was going to hang my Largent poster. He did, and I did.
His dead deer heads – yes, now it’s plural – get decorated for holidays, but they hang in our office. My desk faces away from them and I have my back to them. Seriously, they sometimes bring tears to my eyes.
In the little town of Nowhere, the local grocery store had dead deer heads hanging in the grocery store! How pleasant. It would make the dreadful grocery shopping trip that much more wonderful. I suppose all would be fine as long as I don’t look up.
I thought it would be okay to tag along with my husband and brother-in-law to visit the local sporting goods store. Not sure why I didn’t sit outside and enjoy the beautiful day, I was definitely being a little ignorant about what the store contained.
Dead every things in there, and I had to hide some tears ready to spill down my cheeks. There were stuffed wild cats that should have stayed where they belong. I could be wrong, but I don’t think I have heard of anybody eating mountain lion, or bobcat.
All that being said, the dead heads hanging in our home are beautiful. The taxidermist did a wonderful job. The heads in the grocery store looked a bit ragged. The stuffed things in the sporting goods store didn’t look much better.
I asked my husband if they had simply been hanging on the wall too long, or was it bad taxidermy. Yes, sadly, I could tell the difference.
He never calls my cats by their given names, they are referred to That Orange Cat, That Black Cat, and That Brown Cat. But that’s okay, I have them, and they make me happy.
So…I suppose, what’s a few heads? I will have to draw the line at some point. That creepy feeling of something watching me can’t happen throughout our entire home.
Love. That’s all I can say.