Deer...ing

I grew up in a hunting family. I don't remember the first time I realized what "hunting" really entailed. I don't remember if it was traumatizing, or just a gradual understanding and acceptance of the circle of life. After all, our family always used the meat, and we were taught to love and respect all animals. Unlike many other members of my extended family...I didn't conform to the hunting traditions to which I was raised. I don't have anything against it, I just don't like to do it myself. I don't like the taste of deer meat or elk meat...or any other kind of wild game. I don't even like to "deal" with conventional raw meat. I do it...but I don't like it. In fact I'm convinced somewhere deep inside me is a vegetarian...buried under the part of me that loves a good steak, and fried chicken, and pork chops...and...well, you get the point. I know it's completely hypocritical and probably a bit juvenile, but I just don't like to know where it comes from, or see the process.

So, when I happen to be at my parents house during hunting season, and my dad "gets" a deer, while it's slightly nostalgic, it also,for lack of a better expression, just grosses me out!!

Well last week, on the opening day of bow season, my dad got his first deer. I came home from running errands and made the mistake of coming through the garage. I should have known better when I saw my dads truck backed in...and I knew he'd been hunting. The wafting smell of dead animal is overwhelmingly repugnant. As I made my way into the house and saw Reese's little face greeting me, I was immediately concerned. We've never talked to her about hunting or the origin of the meat on her plate. The week before we had taken her fishing for the first time. She had just learned that those cute little fishy's she wants as a pet, are in the same family as the Salmon and Talapia she eats for lunch. Could she now handle another "realization" of food origin...so soon??? I told my mom that I didn't want her to see the deer or go anywhere near the garage. I was hoping to maybe ease her into the whole hunting experience.

A little while later I walked into the kitchen and found my dad at the sink, washing his hands. Reese was standing beside him. They were having a conversation. I missed the first part but caught the end.

Grandpa: I killed him, now I'm going to cut him up so we can eat him.
Reese: (very concerned) you killeded a deer??
Grandpa: Yes, but now we can eat him.
Reese: (looking at me) Grandpa killeded a deer. Mom, he not a very nice deer??

Having come into the conversation, I just stood there speechless. How do you answer a little 4 year olds innocent question of whether or not it was a nice deer??? My dad just looked at me...and I had nothing to say. So I let him answer.

Grandpa: Yes, he was a nice deer. But sometimes we kill animals for food.
Reese: oh. So some deer's we kill and some are nice deers that are friends.
Me: Sure.

What else can you say? I just let it go. Reese just skipped off with no more questions. How exactly do you help a 4 year old understand the animal food chain. Maybe I'm a wimp, I just don't want the harsh reality of life to settle into her little mind just yet. Can't she be innocent for a while longer??

Later that night she went out to ride her plasma car. She came running in.

Reese: Mom, there some blood on my plasma car. I think Grandpa did it when he was "deer-ing", can you wash it off?
Arnold: I'll clean it off for you.
Reese: Ok, thanks dad!

Welcome to my childhood. I guess I turned out ok...right??