He is a Native American, so it is really just part of who he is, as a person. (And,
if any of you frequent any of the local Choctaw casino's, I thank you...as does The Baby's college fund). Hunting is just part of him...you know, One With The Earth and all.
Well, it seems each time he goes to hunt, it is for different animal, which needs a different gun, different anti-smelling gear and different camo. I know, right? Different camo? I am suppose to be OK with the hundreds and hundreds he has spent on "clothes that look like trees" when he not-so-mockingly asks me why my Chi Hair Dryer is on the ground. Really? We live in HOUSTON! It takes an act of God to not look like I am fresh from puberty every morning.
Anyway, so The Husband goes on a hunt a few months back. He knows the guy who owns the ranch and promises to mount anything he kills as a nod to his host.
So, The Husband does, in fact, kill a "deer". He brings it home to have all of the things done to it that need to be done. He actually brings it back in a huge corpse sized cooler and lets it thaw in my garage. Yeah, hi.
Meanwhile, as The Husband is telling me all about his slaughter and, I am not going to lie, there are a few things that are not adding up.
The Husband, so proudly, tells me he got two shots off to get this deer. This is a big deal as most hunters can only get off one shot before their prey gets scared off never to return. Why was The Husband able to get off another shot, you ask? Because, after the first shot, the deer decided to go and take a nap by the feeder, so The Husband was able to get him on the second round. Huh.
Also, the deer seems to have antlers that are not even. In fact, one is fully formed, and the other is about 1/4 the size. It was so odd, the taxidermist laughed at The Husband for spending the money on having it mounted.
But Jane, "Couldn't you have the skin all tanned, or whatever, and made some great baby pics" you ask? Yes, except, with this type of deer, the fur is MANGY!
Here is where I insert the image that the deer The Husband actually nabbed. Imagine, if you will, this poor less-than-smart deer sporting a wicked case of "Billy-Bob-Teeth" and some googledy eyes. I am fairly certain, that if I visited the scene of the crime, I would encounter a pudding cup and Rainbow Bright lunch box.
I would say that it tasted delightful, except for the fact that our fridge died, and I had to toss out a zillion pounds of the deer after it rotted to the point I could see the roaches walking up to our house with lobster bibs on.
I am sure you can imagine how torn up I was when The Husband was unable to track down the Short Bus on his last hunting trip and came home empty handed.