How I Came to Have Raw, Free-range, Oregon-grape fed Grouse for Dinner

It was a typical Thursday evening. The sky had just begun to pale to a faint indigo-blue color. The temperature was warm, the trees swayed gently in the breeze; this weather was perfect for a walk in the yard. I’d already climbed trees, snacked on a few grasshoppers, and explored various new bushes, and had proceeded towards the driveway, sniffing the quiet breeze.

That is when the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a very loud crash coming from the other side of the house.

It sounded like a grizzly bear had slammed its angry fists on a metal garbage can, desperate for the rotting banana peels within. I ran underneath the truck, hoping that this refuge would keep me safe from whatever had made the noise.


Wes in the forest

That was loud.


Meanwhile, my human associates darted around the house in the direction of the sound. After a few moments of silence, I crept out from beneath the truck and inched around the corner of the house. Before my eyes was a gory sight: the corpse of a grouse lie on the patio. Its beak was crushed and its crop had burst open like a water balloon, releasing its contents over the sidewalk: Oregon grapes and green leaves mingled with the blood that was spattered over the pavement.

I noticed that the humans were gazing upwards, so I traced their gazes to a high window. The glass had been stained by a purplish-red splatter of blood and berry juice that measured over a foot wide. A piece of leaf and fluffy gray feathers stuck to it.


Bird splatter

Wait, is that blood or is it Oregon Grape juice?


After the initial surprise passed, I switched over to predator mode. This was meat. Delicious, fresh, warm, raw-real, delicious meat. The only thing that I had to worry about now was getting my teeth into that stuff. I grabbed at the grouse’s neck, but didn’t get a grip on it sufficient for carrying it away. But I didn’t have to, because my human companions had the same idea.


I'm the blurry orange thing in the background.

Can you find me in the background?


Mallory removed the bird’s feathers and cut open its skin, revealing the innards of the bird.


The yummy stuff.

The yummy stuff.


Then the tasty parts were carved out and placed in my dish, so that I could enjoy a delectable dinner of raw, free-range grouse, killed just minutes before consumption. This beat a thousand bowls of Western Family pate. This stuff made Fancy Feast look like a pile of animal byproducts or something.


And that’s how I came to have raw, free-range, Oregon-grape fed grouse for dinner.


Have you ever eaten an animal that died by accident? Would you consider doing so?


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