Monday, December 08, 2008

all those tales about roadkill are true

Anyone who knows anything about my crazy (fun) family knows that we ate roadkill growing up. Not squirrels or raccoons, but deer. Only the top of the line roadkill. My father would usually find one while driving (deer are a plenty in Minnesota) or put his name on the DNR roadkill list and get called when they found a warm deer. (I'm not making any of this up). He would then proceed to skin and butcher it in our garage and nicely wrap it in butchers wrap and label RK for roadkill. At least my dad is funny. These butchering sessions would also include anatomy sessions for any kids who got close enough. My dad would often grab pliers, pick a tendon and then pull to show us how it make the legs move. Kind of gross but pretty awesome when you are ten.

To show that this is still alive in America, here is a snippet from his last letter:
The Frandsen family (from the 3rd Ward) hit a deer with their car on the way to
the Christmas activity on Friday. Brother Frandsen thought that he should
keep since it had done damage to his vehicle. He called the Sheriff and
waited. Finally after nearly an hour the Sheriff finally arrived.
While the Sheriff was filling out the possession tag, the deer raised it’s head
then sprang up and ran away! It is a good thing that he didn’t just throw
the deer in the back of his vehicle and drive off.

Lest you think that we only talk about people who pick up dead animals off the side of the road, earlier this year my dad came across a dead wolf (timberwolf) and put it in his trunk to take home. Only after skinning it did he realize that it is probably illegal to do so with endangered animals, so he called the police who quickly confiscated it. I'm not sure what my dad would do exactly with the wolf hide, but something tells me he would find a good use for it.

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