It's that time of year again, the time when T takes it upon himself to protect the world from the ravages of small-ish not-very-smart birds. That's right. It is dove season. I mean, seriously? A bird that is dumb enough to get run over by a car deserves to be food, right? The question (for me, anyway) is why would you want to eat them?
At best a whole dove makes four bites - and those bites can vary from charred to raw on one tiny bird. Not to mention the danger of ruining your very expensive dental work chomping down on a bit of bird shot. And the fact that they taste like liver. Why do we eat these things again?
Z won T's heart forever by declaring dove meat (carefully selected by her father) to be delicious. Between the two of them, they picked 15 tiny carcasses clean. Me? I am on a diet. A diet that doesn't include liver-y teeth-endangering game birds.
As if dove weren't enough (in)edible game, duck season opens this weekend. But only the tiny ducks (teal). One size up from dove and just as organ-y. Yay! So T will head out after work to hunt dove, then get up obscenely early to go stand in the water to shoot ducks. I don't know whether to hope his hunt is successful or not!
Oh, did I mention that they have spotted a 12-foot alligator in his duck pond? If he's not careful, I'll be more than a hunting widow! Awesome.