Shameless mugging
I know it's my own fault, I just have a trusting nature and I was momentarily distracted. It has been an unseasonably warm and sunny day in Moomin valley (these things are relative, it was about 5 celcius), there was no wind and I decided that it was about time I dealt with the pheasant that I had been given at the weekend. Cleaning a shot gamebird is definitely one of those tasks that is better done outdoors, although my intention was to be lazy and skin it rather than pluck it, as game pie was its ultimate destination. So, armed with my kitchen scissors and a very sharp knife I embarked on the process, utilising the rickety table that I use for potting out my seedlings in other parts of the year.I had carefully snipped through the skin along the breast bone, and was about to turn the unfortunate creature inside out, when the postie arrived. I waved at her, but this wasn't enough on this occasion, as she had something I had to sign for. By the time I had washed my hands, accepted my mail, and returned to my activities I no longer had a patient on the table, indeed, a small furry and acrimonious scrum in the middle distance indicated that my erstwhile pie mix was now providing entertainment and sustenance for the farm cats. I have always been slightly concerned that the proximity of several hungry cats and a pheasant pen wasn't likely to be a marriage made in heaven, and there have been one or two birds that have met an untimely end recently. Hopefully, if the gamekeeper spots the remains he won't be too concerned, although if I were he, I might be a little bothered that the cats are apparently able to shoot them now.
posted by Lampy @ 1/06/2015 10:11:00 pm
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