After about a month I realized I was going to need a lot more venison. I was down to just about a week’s worth when I put out a plea on Facebook in case anyone hit or saw a dead deer. That Saturday a little before 8:00 this morning a friend Kimberly Floyd sent me a message telling me there was a
dead deer on M80 near 129. I looked at the clock and thought Dj would either be mandated or already in bed, and even if he wasn’t, I didn’t think he would answer his phone anyway since he knew I was looking for a deer. So, I had to wake up Doug.
He wasn’t thrilled, so I told him if he got up I would make him homemade pizza tonight for supper (I’m not above bribing him with food) He finally
got ready while I got everything together and off we went. (This time we did bring a gun just in case) Found the deer (and yes, it was actually dead) and he was backing up to it when I heard a lady yell “Do you need help?” I said sure!
She asked Doug if he was DNR. He said no. She then asked if we needed the meat, because if we were just getting rid of the deer her friend would use it for coyote bait. I explained about needing for my dog. “Do you have a wolf?” “No, a Maltese” We were just going to throw it up on the trailer and take it to mom and dads again when she asked if we would mind gutting it right there (she wanted the innards) So, she went and got her hunting
knife and Doug started gutting it in the ditch.
Once he opened it up, let’s just say that a rib had pretty much exploded everything. At this point the lady comes back again with her 3 year old
grandson and is telling him about how God provided the dead deer for us, and we were going to eat it, and she was going to use the rest as bait so nothing would go to waste. The kid was pretty interested.
Then a lady and a baby came walking over and asked if everything was OK, the 1st lady told her I needed the meat for my dog. “Is it a wolf” she asked. “A mastiff” the first lady said. “No no no, a Maltese, she’s only 18 pounds” I explained. “She has allergies”. Meanwhile another truck stopped and two guys got out and asked if everyone was OK, I said yes, and that we hadn’t hit
it. The first lady told him it was for my dog. But no, it wasn’t a wolf.
They left and two more guys pulled up and asked if it was a buck. I said no. “Fresh meat!” one said “Good eating!” By this time I just agreed since I was done explaining about the dog. “Its for her dog” the first lady told him.
“She has allergies”.
We managed to get most of the gutting accomplished and was getting ready to wrap it up in the tarp when the lady asked if she could have the head. And maybe the feet. She was just going to cut it off right there. Uh, no. We offered to bring her back the “spare parts” when we were done. She agreed to that.
We finally made it back home, and called mom to let her know we were coming over again. Dad had everything ready for us when we got there so mom “puppy sat” while we were skinning. Due to the “explosion” (it was the nastiest smell ever!) a lot of the meat had to go, (the lady ended up with 2 garbage bags of spare parts and unwanted meat!) and what I was able
to keep I had to wash really well.
Dad and Doug used the chain saw again to cut it into quarters and then I was given the task of spraying off the chainsaw. Just as I started to spray it I opened my mouth to sneeze. Yep. Right in. I gagged a bit but managed to not throw up. By the time we were done we were both covered in “yuck”. We came home and I butchered and got it ground up and in the freezer. My cousin Bruce Jeske told me, it gets easier each time, though I’m still not ready to be a bush woman! I took the fat out for the birds and bones out for Fred Foxx. Doug had taken a nap during this whole time. I took a shower, threw our clothes in the washer, sat down and informed him I wasn’t making pizza….