Oh Lepus Cornutus. I almost had you in my grasp, so to speak, but I wasn't around to bid on you. What the heck am I talking about? The lovely jackalope with the sweet downy ruff that was up for auction in a neighboring burg. I know I'm not supposed to, but I really like taxidermy, and I wanted that jackalope.
When I was just a little Guy, we used to stay with friends at their cabin in a town called Hobart Mills. They lived in the city, but spent as much time as they could at the cabin, where they fished and hunted and gathered. On one trip they took us up the mountain to spend the day picking elderberries, choke cherries and spiny red gooseberries. We made some amazing jam.
The most remarkable feature of the cabin was the decor, which could be characterized as "Early Dead Animal" -- flattened wolves with snarling faces, sheep (only the heads), and curling jumping fish. I found this place and our hosts completely fascinating. It was at a lake near their cabin that I caught my first fish -- a four inch brown trout. I was so disappointed that nobody would let me trophy mount it. Oh well.
My godmother's den was studded with gaily painted marlins and swordfish. I loved them too. And when I visited my great aunt's house and found a dusty old mahi and sailfish in the attic, I asked her if some day I could inherit them. She thought that was really funny, and sent me off on the train to Manhattan with the mahi. Years later, Beulah the sailfish joined us. So when I saw the jackalope this week, I thought I'd give Beulah a little mammal sister.
Maybe next time.
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