Who Gets the Deer? Me or the Dog?

I looked at the text message through watery eyes, trying to make the words make sense. I was sick in San Diego, which is not nearly as romantic as being Sleepless in Seattle. I was on a work trip in which we were trying to fit four days of work into two days. My brain and body were not cooperating. Staring at the text was not clarifying the message. Clearly, this required a phone call. This is the story Dave was trying to tell via text message:

 

Dave and Toni (the Good Captain Morgan) were clearing out deep brush from the site of the future horse pasture (which is a much larger undertaking than we originally thought.) Over the roaring of the chainsaws, they heard a noise. It was an anguished scream of a mammal. Giraffe they thought but no, we don’t have live giraffes on the property. They ran towards the goat pen, thinking something was attacking the goats or alpacas. (Oh yeah, in the last year while I was not blogging we got another goat and two alpacas, who are collectively approximately 300 years old. We will talk more about them later.) A quick head count confirmed the heard was accounted for and everyone was fully intact. That’s when they found Chaos, who gleefully lead them to a mortally wounded deer. I hesitate to call it a fawn because that incites thoughts of Bambi, which makes Chaos the bad guy.  She was a little bad but mostly, she was just doing what dogs want to do in the deepest, darkest recesses of their doggie hearts. Hunt. Even your Pekingese wants to hunt wild creatures.  Or should I say, your Pekingese especially. Those little guys are fierce! Chaos was super-pleased with herself. The young deer was not quite dead but was well on her way and in quite a bit of pain. She had hung herself up in the fence and Chaos had mangled her back leg and underbelly. Dave, bless him, who is not an animal killer by nature, decided the best way for him to dispatch the deer has beheading. They decided Toni was to hold the deer down and Dave was to cut off the head. There was some discussion about the need for accuracy. Toni having survived her tours overseas, did not want to contemplate the tragic irony of losing a hand in a non-hunting accident and Chaos was still attempting to do drive by licks of the deer, putting her snout in harm way. They had nothing to fear. The deer was small and Dave is strong; it was a swift death, worthy of a wife of Henry VIII. Decapitation is not really the Boy Scout approved way to kill a deer but it you are in a pinch, it is effective. Chaos continued to trot around gleefully.

 

Having no knowledge of how to properly butcher a deer, Dave immediately called the woman who helps us butcher the meat rabbits. Just the week prior she and I had been discussing the possibility of me shooting a deer from the front porch (I was kind of joking) and she had said she would butcher it if we did. How’s that for strange timing? Dave and Toni lined the back of Toni’s Land Rover with contractor bags and transported the bled out carcass. I’m not sure what Toni thought she was signing up for when she moved out here but I’m guessing a bloody dead animal in her rugged-luxury car was not on the list. I’m just glad my Subaru was parked at the airport waiting for my return! The butchering went smoothly and quickly. You will be happy to know, I don’t have photos. They paid her the front half and kept we kept the back half, which was then further split between the humans and the dog. Chaos got the mangled half and we took the good meat.

 

(This reminds me of an old 911 call about the deer, the dog and the bambulance. Listen to it here. You will find yourself asking, “But what I want to know is who gets the deer, me or the dog?”)

 

So it came to pass that three nights later, when I returned from my trip and the fever had died down, Toni found a recipe, prepared and served the deer. It was, in a single word, DELICIOUS. I don’t know why people eat anything else. It was tender and flavorful. It puts farmed meats to shame. Also, the berry sauce was to die for. I like it on mashed potatoes, in place of gravy. I might also like it with gin, as a tasty cocktail base. The recipe for the venison and sauce can be found here (you’re on your own for the cocktail):

Venison: http://honest-food.net/2012/12/25/roast-venison-recipe-dumplings/

Sauce is something like this but I think she made it without the meat stock: http://eatlikeagirl.com/2010/10/27/wild-venison-with-wild-blackberry-sauce/

Hungry? Go forth and RELEASE THE HOUNDS! Let your Yorkies bring home dinner. If that dog won’t hunt, you can always buy venison online (or invite yourself to dinner at a hunter’s house.)

(Deer animal activists, while I am sympathetic to your plight and agree with many of your principles, this is not intended to spark a debate about hunting with dogs. The idea of hunting with dogs is discussed mostly in jest. I do not really condone any form of animal slaughter which causes undue suffering and hunting something with a dog does in fact cause undue suffering. This post is intended to have some fun with the crazy things living with animals brings to our lives.)

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4 responses to this post.

  1. Beheaded? That’s hardcore! Go Dave. I had deer jerky once and it was amazing…for next time. 🙂

    Reply

    • Posted by aztechalo on July 2, 2014 at 11:55

      What can I say? I don’t call him Brutus for nothing. Hey, you probably have opportunity to hunt deer from your house…

      Reply

  2. Posted by Danielle on June 28, 2014 at 11:44

    I need to move in with you guys, this is somehow far more interesting than living in NY. (Maybe because I no longer find grown men wearing tighty-whities and combat boots while riding a children’s train scooter around Union Square unusual? Who can really say for sure…)

    Reply

    • Posted by aztechalo on July 2, 2014 at 11:55

      You are welcome to move to our commune but I have to tell you, that’s the outfit I wear when I feed at night so you may get bored faster than you would think.

      Reply

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