Sunday 20th February 2011
I must have been about the same age as MS, seven, when a man turned up at my nan & grandad’s house and was told, by my grandad, to go round the back to the garden. He had been up the woods shooting rabbits and had thought that MN&G would like ‘one for the pot’ as he put it.
I followed MG to the bottom of the garden where his friend proceeded to skin the animal. I remember him hanging it by it’s back legs from the shed door, making cuts around the paws and then slowly pulling the skin down the whole length of the body as if he was turning it inside out. All done in a matter of fact way. Very deliberate and skillfully done. I didn’t find it scary or gorey just interesting how quickly it was all done and dusted.
The rabbit that I got was already skinned but whole, so I had to take out the liver & kidneys before cutting it into pieces. MS was sitting behind me in the kitchen as I was cutting it up and I could feel him looking at what I was doing. After I had finished I said;
“What do you think then?”
“It’s gross…” He said. “…you can see all his insides.”
And then he turned and walked away.