When the dogs turn up their noses

by Katie on July 12, 2011

Way back in December, Brandon helped his dad kill a nice deer.

Exhibit A:

Dean's 2010 coues

This little fella is just fine and dandy to hang on the wall. To eat?

Not so much, we found out.

Brandon had already cooked up one of the roasts they made when carving him out when I returned from being gone somewhere (this is half a year ago we’re talking about).

When I came in, he said, “It’s your job to make this, taste good.” In fact, I already talked about this meat.

On any given day in this house, our diet will be supported by one of the three elk we killed in the last few years, or a couple of 20-year-old cows we basically butchered on their deathbed. We are by no means picky eaters. And we have no idea why coues deer meat, of all things, was so unpleasant.

By the time we made it through that roast, we had decided we were not braving it through anymore. Happy birthday, Dixie and Wilbur!

…Only weeks and months went by and we forgot about the only-game-meat-we’ve-ever-had-that-was-inedible in our freezer.

Until last week.

I was doing a little freezer management and came across the bag of deer meat. I took it straight to the sink to thaw for the dogs that evening. At least they would enjoy it, right?

So I took it out to pen them for the night, and dropped a package in each bowl. But the strangest thing happened.

Usually, at the sight of any raw meat, they both start drooling and pounce on it, often catching it in their teeth before it even falls in their bowl.

Not this time.

They both just watched it. Then took a step closer and sniffed it. Then stepped back again.

They did eat it at some point, as evidenced by their empty bowls the next day, but they were clearly not excited about it.

That’s bad, y’all.


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