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03-06-2014, 04:56 AM | #10 | ||
We have to go back, Kate!
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: Yorkshire
Posts: 25,964
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I was brought up with a very unsentimental view of animals (pets notwithstanding). Both my brother and father occasionally engaged in poaching. And it was not entirely unknown for dad to return from his job in the early hours of the morning with roadkill. We went to a poachers' convention when i was around 7 or 8. Martin took part in a rabbit skinning contest (came 3rd) and gave me the foot of his rabbit to keep for luck. After he'd shot some wood pigeons for a pie, he attached string to one of the bird claws for me. It was awesome, you pull the cord and the bird foot moved and clenched. We kept lizards and snakes, who ate live food. I watched as mice disappeared down the gullet of a python. But: in the market there was a butcher's stall that always had a pig's head prominently displayed. It gave me the heebie jeebies. I had nightmares about that head. And from an early age refused to go past that stall. Likewise, no matter how many dead animals I encountered (rabbits and game birds hung to dry in the back room) I was totally freaked out by fish - and still can't eat fish if it arrives with the head still attached. It's the glassy eyes - or worse the empty sockets *shudders*
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