Monday, May 7, 2007

WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH ME AND RABBITS?



I received a comment about my experience rabbit hunting back in the day. Nick Marino reminded me of two other "wabbit" episodes.

These took place in Mechanicville before housing developments and the suburban sprawl.

#1 - Backpack Boogie

It was fall because I remember the chill in the air. Fall has the chill, spring has the hint of warmth on the breeze. George had earlier shot a rabbit and placed it in the game bag pouch at the back of his vest. We never field dressed the game until we were leaving.

Nick and I were behind him as we walked to our next spot.

All of a sudden, George spun around with a strange look and handed his gun to Nick. He started to spin and jump. He kind of looked like the comedian Steve Martin singing and dancing to "King Tut". He would yell and then laugh. When he spun with his back to us it looked like his ass was shaking a mile a minute and his hands were trying to stop it. Like a one step macarena.

Nick started laughing first and then I followed. By now George was highstepp'n like a drum major leading a marching band and he was getting hard to keep up with. Between gasping laughs, I heard George say,"The rabbit...".

Looking more closely, I realized that it wasn't George's ass that ".. was a shaking.." it was the rabbit trying to get out of the pouch! The animal had been only stunned.

George got the vest off and the rabbit got out. The critter took off like Steve McQueen in a car chase.

#2 - It's all in the wrist - rated eeouuuwwwwwwwwwwww!

Finishing up one afternoon after a day of hunting, Nick was going to teach me a quick and easy way to field dress a rabbit. Field dress is the polite way to say gut. This is the worst part of a day of hunting. Nothing smells like it and there's no clean way to do it. Not according to Marino, he had a clean way to do it.

He took his rabbit and slit it open and then walked up to a small sapling, about 4" - 5" around, and while holding him by the hide legs, he snapped it against the tree. The offal flew out fairly cleanly. "It's all in the wrist," said Nick.

It was my turn. Cut, split, grasp and flick the wrist and wham I'm wearing the rabbits insides. Blood is running down my face and "stuff" is sliding down the front of me. Eeeoouuwww!

This was the day that I became a bird hunter.

1 comment:

Nick Marino said...

There were two witnesses, so the truth had to be told. I can still picture it to this day.
While the subject is about that great hunting spot in Mechanicville, we stumbled across the remains of of older home and all that was left standing was the chimney and a toilet bowl...and with that said, I'll let Glenn finish the story.