Life with a Taxidermist

My husband is pretty supportive of my newfound hobby of working with dead animals. He is understanding, but not super into it himself. He grew up in a hunting household so he has seen his fair share of dead critters throughout the years. He is not grossed out by it, but sometimes he would rather I kept some of my activities at a distance.

Here are a couple exerts from him that I quite enjoy:
“How do you taxidermy a bird and have the feathers not fall out? Actually… Nevermind.”
“No, a beetle box is NOT a good idea.” (Referring to dermestid beetles).
“Can you please organize the freezer? I thought I found a bag of jerky… It was a mouse.”

“What is that smell? …Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”
“No, I do not want to have a deer skull hanging up on the wall.”
“I’m really glad you have found a new hobby, but you need to clean up the blood on the floor.”

Me: “I am writing a blog post about funny things you have said regarding my hobbies.”
Keith: “Are you going to write about the time you stunk up the whole basement from cleaning bones?”
Me: “Oh yea…That was really stinky.”

My all-time favorite:
Me: “Do you think I am too weird?”
Keith: “No. I think you have the confidence to do what you like to do. It doesn’t bother you what other people might think.”
Me: “Awwww.”

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