This is not a post for vegetarians.
We took a few rams to the butcher on Tuesday. (Tuesday is their “exotic animal”day— but I disagree that sheep are exotic.) Zanimal (formerly Big Z, and before that Little Z) said we shouldn’t tell them where we were going. “Just tell them they’re going to Spanish lessons!” She said. So, we did. And now “Spanish lessons” will forever be a euphemism for “getting butchered” in our house.
After we dropped them off, I went home and cleaned out the freezer to make room for lamb meat. There were dozens of chicken feet in the freezer, which I had heard once were edible, but I decided that really, I’m not eating a chicken foot unless I’m starving to death! So I threw all of the chicken feet into the trash, and then there was plenty of room for lamb.
Then, I went back to the butcher and picked up the pelts from the sheep. We usually cure them, have them tanned, and make beautiful sheepskin throws out of them. As I was stretching them to dry them out, I noticed something really weird. Whoever butchered them had left the bony front legs on the pelts, and the hoofs. I prefer my blankets to be hoof and bone free, so I cut off the bony, furry lamb legs, hoofs and all. I threw the sheep legs and feet into the trash with all of the chicken feet.
And then I thought, man, do I have some funky weird trash.
How many feet are in your trash?